


Nurtured Hope

by WanderingGlancesintheField (JourneySmilesMiles)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Knotting, Lactation, M/M, Male Lactation, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Nipple Play, Omega Dean, Past Rape/Non-con, Rut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-05-19 02:10:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14864655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JourneySmilesMiles/pseuds/WanderingGlancesintheField
Summary: Dean's father answers a Help Wanted ad in the newspaper in hopes of finding a place to send his disgraced Omega son. Dean, still drowning in his own sorrows, can only go along with the plans set before him and help the Milton family the only way he knows how. He has no child of his own to feed, but he knows that he can help someone else's from starving.Castiel Milton has just lost his mate and has been left alone to care for his infant daughter. Still in need of breastfeeding he is delighted to find that a smart, attentive, caring and beautiful omega has responded. But when they find out that perhaps they are more compatible then they'd ever planned, nature comes calling. No matter how stubborn they may be, nature always has a way of bringing designed matches together.





	1. Chapter 1

Standing in front of a small window, looking out at the black horse below, Dean gentle folded a soft blanket in his hands. Inhaling deeply, so to take in the soft glow of the summer morning dew, he turned around and placed the blanket in his small leather bound suitcase; the edges fraying with overuse from other members of the family through the years. In the corner of his eye he saw the last items he’d place in the suitcase before leaving the only home he’d ever known.  Dean reached for the small dried garland of flowers made by his mother and put them gently on top of his things in the case, next he picked up a small book that Sam had given him the night before so that he wouldn’t fall behind on the latest novel without him. He stared down at the book and garland, already crumbling in the small move, before turning his attention back to the picture frame facing down on the bed.

Releasing a shuddering breath Dean picked up the photo and held it close to his stomach. His hands shook as he scrunched his eyes close trying his best to chase the last two weeks from his mind. Two weeks since he last held her, two weeks since he last stroked his hand across her new plush cheeks rosy in colour. Two weeks since he last saw her newborn grey eyes, already turning a soft green in the morning light. Two weeks since his heart left. Two weeks.

Without looking at the photograph he placed it face down amongst his clothing and closed the lid of the suitcase, buckling the belt in place to make sure it stayed closed until he arrived at his new home or rather his new place of exile and work.

Sitting down upon the bed beside him, he rested his hand along the pans of the case and scratched absently at the edge of the suitcase. Turning his head he looked at the newspaper and letter sitting on the pillow.

**Nurse and Nanny Wanted! Room and board included. All transportation and necessities paid in full upon arrival.**

Staring without seeing, Dean remembered the day his father had walked into his room to find him blankly staring out in the distance holding a small teddy bear in his arms. He remembers his father yanking the bear out of his hands before tossing it in the trash. He remembers his words, _‘That’s enough. I’ve found you a job. A job where this mistake will find you some future benefits and security.’_ He remembers how his mother hand cried quietly by the doorway and Sam had stood in shock as he listened to their father tell Dean that he would be leaving a few days to go across the country by train and start a new life as another child’s nanny and wet nurse.

Gulping in distress Dean released another gush of air before standing and moving to the small bathroom just outside his door. His chest hurt with the lack of use and his paternal instincts yearned for the infant he would never see again. One night of stupidity and this is where it left him. It left him standing in front of a mirror as he watched himself lean over the sink to empty the milk from his chest.

He wasn’t engorged like some of the women he’d met over the past 9 months, but male omegas still produced milk. In the past it wasn’t unheard of for male omegas to seek lactation assistance from their female counterparts, but it wasn’t always necessary. He used to worry that he wasn’t going to be able to feed his kid on his own before a well-seasoned male omega assured him that his body would find a way to adjust. His chest would never truly grow, but it would become softer with time and a little puffy in size as well. But he’d remain, for the most part, male in his primary characteristic.

Dean never liked looking at what he was doing, but in order not to make a mistake he had to at least aim. He smirked sadly to himself as he remembered the first few days of doing this he’d left a mess around the edges of the sink, only to hear Sam shriek his name from behind the shared wall of his room and bathroom.

Carefully he placed his thumb and finger tips around the edges of the areola and brought his other hand up to massage the tissue. Squeezing he watched with a detached sense of relief as drops began to flow from his nipples and leak into the sink, before a steady flow followed behind it. He continued until the pressure was gone and nothing was left before turning to the other side. He wanted to make sure he was empty before the long journey with his father, and then the train to his new home. He was fairly certain he’d have to relieve himself once again on the train, but the other passengers will not be the wiser. Part of what was going to reassure that was waist-coat and jacket, which his mother had sewed into the lining with cedar and moss.

From outside the bathroom he could hear the stomping of his father’s boots upon the creaking wood floors and the rumble of his voice as he instructed Sam to carry his things to the carriage outside. For a moment he worried that the small blanket and photo would not make it into the case, but he knew Sammy would make sure that it did.

Groaning at the last drop hit the sink he sighed into the movement as the pressure finally faded completely. Daring himself to look up he saw himself in the mirror. His hair was cleaned, task he had ignored for days afterwards, and his body was lean. He had stopped eating that day. How his body still produced food for something that was no longer alive he could not fathom. His eyes bore into the reflective metal, they were sad, drawn and resigned to the hopelessness.

“Dean!” roared his father. 

Sighing one last time he grabbed the band of scented cotton wrap from the side of the sink and began to wrap his chest tight, lowered his shirt and then opened the door. This was the beginning of his new life. A life away from his family, familiarity, comfort and memories. Biting the inside of his cheek he thought to himself perhaps moving away from the memories was the best part of all of this.

 __________

His shoes were newly shined, his mother’s doing, but no amount of shine would hide the scuffmarks on them. He watched as he kicked the dirt below his feet waiting for his new employer to arrive. His family had taken him to the train station to see him off; his father had warned him to behave while slapping his shoulders, his mother had wiped away a single tear from his face and kissed his cheeks whimpering as she let him go and his brother and clutched him tight to his growing body and whispering encouragements and dreams of freedom into his ear. He thought back to the journey on the train, how he had watched the flat plains disappear to roll through a city and then back into the open plains again. He looked up to see the absence of people. No one was here to pick him up and the Station attendant had long gone home.

He’d travelled 10 hours to get here, and he began to fear that darkness would set in before his employer arrived.

“Where the hell are they?” he cursed at the wind.

Behind him he heard the clattering of hooves and rumble of wheels. Turning his attention to beyond the tracks into more desert, he saw a puff of sand smoke trailing behind a carriage. Realizing that it must be them, he stood up and dusted off his pants, running his hands over the front of his waistcoat gently only sucking in air at the gentle pass over his sensitive small breast.

‘ _Fucking udders always filling and aching at the wrong moment,’_

The carriage stopped just shy of the tracks and a tall man jumped off jogging towards him. He grabbed his hat and held it down, the wind again picking up the sand.

“Hi, sorry, sorry! I lost track of time with Claire and before I knew it noon had passed and the chickens were everywhere. Then she started wailing again and I just- “ the man ranted on as he stumbled his way across the tracks to stand in front of Dean. His words cut short as his eyes looked up at him.

Dean wasn’t pleased to watch how the stranger’s eyes took in his entire body, scuffed-shiny shoes and all.

“Sorry. You must be Dean Winchester. I’m Castiel Milton, I’m the one who posted the ad- well not me exactly that was my brother Gabriel, you’ll meet him. But I did write the corresponding letter.”

Mr. Milton continued to babble in front of him, the words having no meaning as the confusion towards the letter turned to realization and anger. His father must have written a letter for him. The poor bastard had no idea to the reality of the situation. Dean had been forced to come hence this was not his choice.

The lifting of his luggage caused him to jump and watch as Mr. Milton stepped backwards with the luggage at hand to give him space.

“You are Mr. Winchester, correct?” his brows scrunched together enough to allow Dean to see where the lines of dust on his tanned skin had been formed.

“Yeah,” he croaked. He was still unsure what type of alpha this man was. Did he expect compliance? Was he gentle? Harsh? Was he new age? What happened to his mate?

From the sweat pouring off the man’s skin he could smell to sharp tang of mourning on him, mixed with the off scent of cinnamon and rotten apples. In better circumstances he might have smelled good, but life had clearly been less than favourable to both of them and a happy ending for either was not in the cards.

“Good, good. I’d like us to head back now. I don’t like leaving Claire this long and she’s still very small.”

Dean watched as Mr. Milton placed his luggage on the back of the cart and hopped up, reaching rough had down to hoist up beside him.

Before he knew what was happening the cart lurched forward as Mr. Milton ushered the horses into a fast pace.

From the corner of his eyes he looked at the man beside him. He was handsome; tanned from labouring in the sun, lean muscles, his biceps bunched as he directed the horses, he jaw was sharp with a straight nose to match. He had long dark eyelashes to match his dark hair and his eyes were a bright blue honed on the direction of home. He noticed that the anxious babbling had ceased in favour of biting his pink lips, perhaps trying to keep his worry trapped in his lungs instead overwhelming Dean.

With each jostle he clutched on to the edge of his seat, the shift causing his breast to bounce and remind him that he needed to relieve himself soon or they’d do it for him.

Just as the pain began to become unbearable, and sweat set in at the back of his neck a small cabin came into view. The lights warmed the windows and a puff of smoke from a cooked meal floated into the air at the almost vanquished daylight.

Mr. Milton jumped off the cart as he stopped the horse just outside a small pathway lined with dead flowerbeds. The image before him and the one that surely awaited him inside was of a home once loved dearly by another once upon a time. This was not his; he was stepping in to help where the lost was most felt.

From the door he could hear the cries of an infant growing into the night air. Mr. Milton reached to open the door and the warmth of lights came to envelop Dean stuck in the doorway. The kitchen was a decent size, with rickety floors nicely shined with care. The walls branched out to small rooms off to the side of the kitchen as well all painted in a soft yellow.

Mr. Milton waved him in and took off his hat as he quickly walked to the older woman sitting at the kitchen table. Her hair was pulled tight against her head and she wore and old fashioned dress fitted to her waist.

“Castiel, you’re very late. Claire has been crying since you left.”

Taking his daughter in his arms he began to shush at her while swaying back and forth, “Did you not feed her the goat’s milk?”

The older woman stroked the bundles soft cheeks with care, “I tried but she wouldn’t eat it anymore.”

As if called upon both eyes looked up to latch on to him. ‘ _Right. I’m the milk. Fuck my life.’_

Coming forward he walked over to look at the small baby in his arms. A soft knit blanket hid a tiny child, her cheeks plush and rosy from crying. Her eyes were blue like her father’s and a tiny tuff of blonde hair puffed out from under the blanket. The child began to hiccup in distress and reached up to hold on to her father’s shirt – begging for answers and food.

“It’s okay my sweets, Dean is here to help. See? Claire this is Dean Winchester he’s going to take good care of you while I’m out working. Aren’t you Dean?”

Dean’s eyes were glued to her, the way her eyes shone with tears and a glimmer of hope that someone would finally relieve her of the hunger pains. He watched as Mr. Milton walked over to him and motioned for him to hold her.

This was going to be his new life. Mr. Milton would be there and surely the other woman, but her; she was going to be his life from now on.

“Hello Miss Milton, it’s very nice to meet you.” Dean reached forward to brush his fingers over the soft hand peeking out only to have her grab him tightly. Dean moved close to them to allow for Claire to suck on his finger a little, helping to relieve the pain and confusion in the motion.

Mr. Milton motioned for him to take her in his arms and Dean moved without much thought. He didn’t think much on how natural it was. Most would say it was his Omega instincts, but he argues it was all the years he helped his Mother and from being ready for his lost chance before this.

Her body fit perfectly against his chest within his arms and the finger momentarily shushed her cries allowing for Mr. Milton to say goodbye to the woman. From the door he heard him say Goodnight to his mother.

‘ _oh.’_ He nuzzled his face close to Claire, “Was that your Grandma? You weren’t very nice to her, but that’s okay you don’t have to be nice to everyone.”

The clearing of Mr. Milton’s throat caught his attention telling him to turn around.

“Please follow me, I’ll show you your room then where Claire sleeps. You may clean up if you’d like, have some dinner with me or go to bed which ever you’d like. I’d don’t want to presume that you can start tonight. A night’s rest would do.”

As if knowing what the walk to her room meant, Claire ripped her mouth away from Dean to wail once more. She was hungry, very hungry and there was no way she’d allow either of them to go to bed before she was happy.

“Here I can take her and get her to drink the goat’s milk. It’s no problem,” Mr. Milton reached for her, but Dean turned away.

“No Mr. Milton the child is hungry I can – I can do this and besides there is no use wasting good milk now is there?”

The meaning caught up to the man turning his cheeks a slight pink in embarrassment.

“Yes. Of course. I’ll just leave you with her then and please call me Castiel,” he smiled at his feet and scampered away to the kitchen.

Dean waited to hear the scrapping of wood from the chairs before placing a crying Claire in her basket.

“I know I know bug, but I’ve got to unwrap myself. Let’s hope I didn’t burst on the journey here. Your father was a little rough.” Hearing his last words he scoffed quietly.

Shaking his head at himself as he thought of what they could have meant out of context. However, after spending a small amount of time with him he was sure that was not going to be a problem.

He groaned quietly to himself as he unwrapped the fabric and the scent of sweet milk filled the room. His small breast were enlarged enough to almost look like a decent set of small breast. They were about a cup bigger and filled his hands. The nipple was dark purple where liquid already leaked out and veins protruded in pain at the pressure.

He walked over to pick Claire up once more and brought her close to his breast. He waited for her to latch and prayed that it wouldn’t be an added problem. He carefully moved his breast to run the nipple over her mouth and coached her to find him. He watched as her teary eyes began to clear and her mouth opened wide to latch around his nipple.

He released a loud moan of pain and waited for the relief to follow as she sucked the milk from his body. His heart filled with slow joy at the being able to relieve the pain of one child while still mourning silently from his own loss. Dean reached to smooth his hand down his breast pushing more milk into her mouth. When she unlatched he shifted her to the next breast and watched as she found his nipple right away; latching and drinking. He swayed gently watching as her eyes closed, while her body continued to draw in the nutrients. As he swayed his body turned to the door where he raised his eyes to find Castiel standing in awe with tears running down his face.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

He could only blush and smile as he turned to place a sated sleepy Claire back in her crib. Unable to look at Castiel again, he nodded his head and continued to look down.

“May I be shown to my room now, I would like to sleep a little before she awake again.”

“Yes of course follow me.”

Dean grabbed his shirt and shrugged it back on, holding his bindings in his hands. He followed Castiel’s back to the room just next-door.

“I hope this is to your satisfaction. All of your belongings are already in here and if you need anything else my room is just to the other side of Claire’s. Good night Dean.”

Allowing a glance up he smiled at Castiel before he watched the man turn and walk swiftly down to his own room.

He’d be lying if he didn’t admit that he rather enjoyed the lingering smell the man left behind. Strong alpha smell, still tinged with the sour note of the lost of his mate.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments! They inspired me to write more :)

The days blurred into themselves. He would rise with the sun, as did Claire, and feed the young child before shuffling to the kitchen to begin making breakfast for her father. Most days there was no trouble feeding Claire, so deprived of proper food for weeks, she clung to his very small breast with vigour. However, a month following his arrival, Claire stopped wanting to latch.

Jiggling her a little in her arms he cooed at her pinching his nipple and aiming it at the squirming baby in his arms.

“Come now bug, just a little. Just take a little.”

He bounced her in his arms as he moved the crying child towards the kitchen, needing to begin with Castiel’s breakfast and see him off with Claire fed and happy. The panic of not being able to perform made him worry that perhaps if this continued Dean would be sent home and from there, surely his father would send him to the streets.

“I know love, I know the teeth hurt, but I need you to eat from me. You don’t have the ability to eat solids yet. Come on,” tears stung his eyes as he heard Castiel shuffling around in his room, rising to go to work.

He was topless, long past the hour of the morning where modesty mattered in his panic. Usually he covered her head and his breast from Castiel’s view, an image no alpha wished to see. No alpha, as he’d been told, wanted to see the inner workings of child rearing. They only wished to make them, enjoy that pleasure, see their omega large with the spawned child and finally see the product of their fertility. The product of course reminding them that they got to partake in the instinctual call to make more offsprings in the future. The discomfort of pregnancy, the blood of birth, and the milk of life were of no interest.

But today, in his panic to feed Claire he had forgotten to cover himself, and to his horror Castiel walked in on them before he could remedy it.

Grabbing a towel he fumbled to hide himself from his view, “Sorry, sorry I did not intend you to see. I’ll cover myself. I just- I can’t –I,” His breathing increased, his body began to shake and Claire began to scream in distress.

Castiel moved quickly and took Claire from his arms, a move that caused him to whimper and begin to cry, “I’m so sorry.”

Castiel jostled Claire in his arms trying to silence her cries. “Shh sweetie, it’s okay. Dean is trying his best. Maybe some goats milk today. Don’t worry Dean it’s okay, just sit here and I’ll be right back.”

From the hall he heard Claire’s continual cry and Castiel pick up the telephone.

“Yes, operator I would like to be connected to a Mrs. Naomi Milton, line 14. That’s right. Thank you. – Mother, yes mother yes, that is Claire. No Dean is perfectly fine, well fine enough – She won’t drink from him Mother. – Okay. – Yes I understand. Goodbye.”

Dean’s tears streamed down his face. He was certain that Mrs. Milton had demanded he be relieved of service.

“Mr. Milton, I’m sorry. Here give her to me I’ll try again I’m sure I can.”

Castiel came forward and offered Claire to him once more, “It’s okay Dean. I’m just going to try something Mother suggested. It might entice her to drink and help with the pain from her teeth coming in. Do you trust me?” he asked earnestly.

Without hesitation Dean responded, “Yes, of course.”

Nodding he watched as Castiel rose from his seat and went to the parlour to grab a bottle of whiskey and then to the cupboard to get some honey. As he moved around the room, Dean glanced down to try again to get Claire to latch. The cries of pain had caused his nipples to leak all over his front, and his breast to swell with milk needed but not used.

“Come on bug, take a sip. Just a little. Do it for me, honey.” He cooed still sniffling.

Castiel pulled a chair over to sit in front of him. On the table he placed a small bowl that smelled of whiskey. He dipped his finger in it and reached forward to run the liquid along his daughter’s lips.

“This is an old recipe for teething. The whiskey helps numb the pain and the honey is meant to entice her to latch. If you’ll move her just a little so I may see you.” He asked as his honest and gentle nature shone through.

Hesitantly Dean moved his arms and lowered Claire, exposing his chest fully to Castiel’s eyes.

“If I may, I’d like to place a little of the concoction on you to help her associate the sweetness and lack of pain with you.”

Nervously Dean stared at Castiel’s face, so earnest with care, and slowly nodded pushing his chest forward a little in the hopes of helping Claire.

He watched as Castiel’s fingers dipped into the bowl and slowly rose to hover over his chest, hesitating a little before glancing down to his screaming daughter and moving forward. The shock of Castiel’s thumb wet with sticky liquid caused Dean to gasp. The jolt of electricity scorched down his spine and caused his body to ignite with arousal. He’d never been touched with such care. Even his reason for being here had only been brought through violence and ridicule.

Castiel’s fingers, rolled his nipple between them, making sure to coat them completely with whiskey laced honey. He swiped his fingers up in a spreading motion to sweep the substance around the areola to make sure Claire latched properly. Dean found himself panting at the administrations as his eyes glazed over in ecstasy from the touch. The pause causing him to realize that his hole was leaking, and that the slick that was being produced radiated in the small space of the kitchen. Castiel’s hand moved to dip back into the bowl and touched his other nipple.

The touch caused him to clench his hole and feel his slick begin to puddle in his pants, surely soaking them and the seat below him. Castiel’s fingers rolled his nipple once again, pinching it in the process and making him groan at the touch.

“Cas,” he whispered, in warning and in pleasure.

He watched as Castiel shifted in his seat, the smell of alpha arousal pungent in the air. He scrunched his eyes closed and bit his bottom lip as Castiel pulled a little on the pinched nipple and swept his thumb over the sensitive bud. He felt Castiel adjust his hand to hold his peck, swollen for feeding. He squeezed him gently and watched his face as milk squirted out of his rosy pinched nipple.

He longed for more from the alpha. Dean wanted him to taste him to latch on to his breast, to taste his milk mixed with the honey and whiskey, but instead all he did was move back and nudge Dean’s arm up to allow Claire to get closer.

Dean still panting a little looked down at Claire and watched as Castiel leaned forward to pinch his areola and aim it at Claire’s mouth. Smiling as Claire latched on completely and began to suck earnestly.

“There, that should do it.” He cleared his throat and rose from his seat.

As he rose Dean’s eyes shifted upwards to look in awe at Castiel. His eyes only slightly shifted towards his crotch, noticing the large hard line nestled within Castiel’s slacks. He was big and he was aroused. But his demeanour reminded them that their main focus was Claire.

“Thank you,” he shyly responded as he shifted slightly in his soaked pants trying to hide his own erection. The feeling of Claire suckling made him force his mind away from the pleasure in the room. Only to be reminded of it a little as Castiel once again reached into the bowl to swipe more smoky honey upon the empty nipple, pinching it again in the processes and pulling on the bud a little, renewing the residue. The groan Dean released and the unprovoked leaking of milk, made more slick flow from his hole. He knew that when he decided to stand, when he could, there would likely be a puddle left behind and the slick would fall from his cheeks to his legs and the floor, staining his pants.

“Beautiful,” Castiel whispered, before leaning down to kiss his daughter’s forehead still drinking from Dean’s breast. His mouth so close to Dean’s nipple and close to his scent. 

Dean watched, as Castiel’s blush rose to a dark stain as he inhaled deeply and shifted away from him. Leaving quickly to go to work.

 

__________

 

As the day wore on it became more and more apparent what Castiel had been blushing about. Dean’s skin was tight with heat, his body shone with sweat and he was panting profusely. Whatever had happened during the morning with Castiel had triggered an early heat. A heat he had thought was not supposed to appear until he was done feeding Claire.

His body yearned for Castiel’s touch; for his alpha. The thought of him as his alpha, made him shake his head, but his body did not understand the nuances. His hole had ceased to stop leaking since the morning and had thoroughly ruined a pair of pants. He had been able to put Claire down for a nap after her feeding, and knowing that Castiel was not due home for many hours, he stripped. He walked proudly naked around the house and opened all the windows.

The smell of his scent sunk into the wood of the house and founds its way through the air of the open land. He had no idea where Castiel was, but his body cried out for him anyway.

His chest was wet from the over abundance of milk falling from his breast. Enlarged slightly from the over production and fertile call. His cock was hard and painful, while his hole leaked enough slick to make his thighs and backside shine in the setting sun.

Groaning he found himself sinking to the floor of the front hallway, unable to move further as his stomach cramped with dehydration and yet another flow of slick. He was in pain, hot and deeply aroused. He’d tried to stay away from touching himself, knowing that if Castiel returned home he would be reprimanded for masturbating on the job. It was not something he would have been able to hide from the alpha, as he could tell the scent of his heat was painted into the secluded house.

Moaning on the floor he shifted his weight to allow himself to turn his head, so he could see the road outside through the open screen door, just in case Castiel came home. As the minutes ticked by he made the decision that the only way to get rid of the pain was to appease the heat a little. He placed a hand on the floor and rested his cheek upon it while shifting his weight to allow his other hand to reach back and run his finger along his wet hole. Closing his eyes to the touch he slowly sunk one finger into himself and began to move it in and out, moaning at the friction. But it wasn’t enough. Growling to himself, he spread his legs and forced another finger inside only to have a third follow shortly after. He was very ready to take a knot, but that was something that was never going to happen.

In his ecstasy he wiggled his hips moving his hand a little and shifted his hips to meet them. But while the stretch was there, the length was not. He touched his prostate a little but he wanted to be able to milk himself to completion. Shifting his legs once again to allow for a fourth finger, he began to move his hand vigorously, pumping them in and out of himself. He shifted his face to see his cock bobbing up and down, lightly tapping the floor as his hips moved. It was hard, bright red, and leaking pre-come. His balls were tight and the slick from his hole was now forming a puddle on the floor. He rose up to allow himself a chance to touch his cock, hoping that the touch would give him some relief. As he rose he noticed that the slick wasn’t the only puddle left on the front hallway floor. His breast swollen with arousal and heat had also seeped onto he floor causing him to blush deeply at the mess he was making.

In his arousal he had forgotten to keep his eyes upon the road, and was surprised to find the wafting of rain and honey upon the wind as it came through the open door. He groaned and rapidly moved his hips up and down, fucking his fist around his cock and his fingers in his hole, as the scent got stronger. He heard footsteps walk onto the bottom step only to stop and be followed by a deep growl.

“A-alpha,” he released a pitched moan as he realized that the man staring into the house at the base of the stairs was Castiel.

“Dean” came the responding growl. The sound of Castiel’s voice caused him to almost reach his climax and cry out in pain as his arousal plateaued with the knowledge that his pleasure would be best answered through an alpha.

“No, no, no,” he whimpered closing in on himself as his release ran away from him, only for his mind to be sharpened once again to the hungry cries of Claire.

Unable to look at Castiel, he rose shakily from the floor and slowly walked to Claire, pausing to wash his hands in the bathroom before continuing.

“Dean, Dean. You –“ from behind him Castiel’s voice was strained as he released puffs of air in an attempt to clear his scent from his own nose, “You’re in heat, you don’t have to see to Claire. Go to you room and – and rest.”

Ignoring him Dean walked to Claire’s room and closed the door a little for modesty. However, Castiel followed through and open the door once more as he stepped in to try and take Claire. Needing to continue his duties to Claire and not wanting a repeat of the morning Dean picked her up and went to the windowsill where he’d placed the whiskey honey. He reached in and swiped some of substance on his nipples; the brief touch sending another wave of arousal through him, his body trying to entice the alpha in the room. He took the remaining residue on his thumb and placed it on her lips before raising her to latch and drink. With his back to Castiel, he focused on feeding Claire and putting her back into bed. The action gave him some relief from the built up pressure in his minimal breast tissue.

“Dean,” Castiel whispered from behind him.

Clearing his throat he watched as Claire shifted in her crib and picked up a toy to chew on.

“I’m going to my room. Just knock if Claire needs me.”

Quickly he walked away and closed the door behind him, only to collapse upon the floor once again in pain.


	3. Chapter 3

Hours passed as the sunset and rose without any relief. He failed to hear Claire cry, and even though in his daze he knew that was odd, he couldn’t find the strength to rise from floor to tend to her.

He jumped as a knock came on the door and a woman’s voice called out to him.

“Dean, honey, it’s me. Mrs. Milton. Let me in.”

He turned his face to look at the doorknob and slowly pushed himself up before releasing the latch on the door and falling back to floor. He watched through a daze as Mrs. Milton stepped inside and gasped at the image before her; the young man scrunched together trying to hold in the pain while whimpering at the influx of alpha smell from the hallway. She rushed over to him and stroked his face.

“Dean. Sweetheart. Can you hear me? When was the last time you ate or had a drink of water?”

He did not know. He doesn’t remember if he’d nibbled on some food the morning before or had some water through the day, but if he was a betting man he’d say it was likely the evening before was the last time he had had a glass of water.

Mrs. Milton stroked his face lightly and rubbed away his tears smiling softly down at him before rising and leaving the room, her old Victorian dress swishing on the wood flooring. As her gentleness left he whimpered into the floor, cursing his omega body for once again failing the other’s around him.

When his father had found out that he was pregnant, he’d slapped him and dragged him to a doctor to get rid of it. It was not possible in their small town, and no one would dare speak of a possible person who might. He remembered his father bringing him home and threatening to drag the disgrace out of Dean’s body with a soda bottle or cloth hanger, only to be chastised for even suggesting it by his mother. He began to cry on the floor missing his mother’s touch and craving his little brother’s company. He remembered being hidden in the house when he began to show and how every couple of days someone in the family asked him who the alpha was that did that to him. He would never say, because the events that had led to the fateful night were too frightening, too violent, and too shameful.

From the hallway he could hear the shuffling of feet and low voices. He could smell three people within the house: the comforting scent of lilies from Mrs. Milton, the sweet smell of caramel from baby Claire and the smell of rain, apples and honey mixed with the strong smell of alpha from Castiel. The sounds were coming from the kitchen and he whined once again as the sound of Claire snuffling danced into his room. He was failing another child, because of his body.

“Castiel Milton you have an omega in your house and you didn’t think to take care of him?” the reprimanding sound of Mrs. Milton’s voice flowed from the kitchen back to the hallway and into his room as she got closer.

“Mother, I’m sorry I didn’t want to intrude. He’s a gues-“ Castiel followed his mother stopping to stare at Dean on the floor.

“Do you see what you have done? Hmm? Look at him Castiel. He’s covered in his own fluids; he’s shaking with fever, parched with thirst and crying in fear. This is what you’ve done.”

“But Mother, I’m not his al-“

“Oh yes you are. This omega steps into your home to take care of your daughter. He is your omega in everyway that matters to you and Claire. Now get in here and help me put him in the bed.”

Castiel sprang to action and picked up his body carrying him bridal style to the bed. Weakly Dean tucked himself momentarily into Castiel’s neck, smelling the fear and arousal in his scent. He scoffed sadly at the fact that in any other life this would have been romantic; his alpha carrying him gently to bed to help him with his heat. But this was not that story. And Castiel would never want to be his.

The softness of his mattress relieved the pain in his bones and the touch and scent of the alpha slowly allowed the heat to subside. Mrs. Milton placed some bread on the table and a large pitcher of water. She passed a full glass to Castiel, who slowly lifted Dean’s head and asked him to drink. In his weakness Dean was unable to open his mouth fully and swallow causing most of the water to spill from his lips. Mrs. Milton scoffed at her son and motioned for him to take a drink and feed it to him. Dean watched through heavy eyes as Castiel took a deep breath, drank from the glass and slowly turned his face to meet his own. Dean squirmed away from Castiel’s lips, not wanting the undesired touch of lips to sully his own wanting ones, but Castiel persisted and placed his wet lips upon his forcing his lips to part and take the water. The taste of cold water upon his throat caused him to groan and the taste of alpha on his lips made his fever spike once again. The smell of arousal rose within the room causing Mrs. Milton to sneeze before giving a pointed look at Castiel, and closing the door softly behind her.

Castiel took another drink of water and repeated the motion, pushing his tongue along the seam of his lips to part them more. Dean closed his eyes, both out of shame and desire. He wanted Castiel, but it was clear that regardless of the smell of aroused alpha, Castiel did not want him.

Once he’d had a full glass of water and eaten some bread, Castiel shifted on the bed cleared his throat and began to speak, his eyes focused outside through the bedroom window.

“Dean. This can’t go on. I – We need you to be okay and this. This can’t continue. I know that an omega’s heat will finish within a few days, but this can’t be normal. This reaction. Your deteriorating health and I- I can’t stand by and watch you get progressively worse before you get better.”

Dean focused his eyes, now more lucid with substance, upon his suitcase tucked into the far corner of the room. Listening to the sounds of Claire cooing outside with her grandmother as the silence between Dean and Castiel stretched out. To his ears he was sure that Castiel was stalling in telling him he would have to leave once it was all over. Dean was a burden and simply too much of a liability.

“My mother has stressed to me that as you are under my roof, and helping my daughter it is my responsibility to take care of you. So if you are willing I’m willing to help you through your heat, I only wish you to tell me how far you need me to go to relieve you of this pain.”

Closing his eyes tight Dean felt the return of the pained arousal and knew that this couldn’t continue. Swallowing deeply and clicking his throat in the process he sighed and remained still as he answered Castiel.

“I – I do not need you to – to knot me. I just need – help. Contact.”

“Okay.”

Castiel shifted on the bed and gently placed his hand on his calf, “Is this okay? Or more?”

Moaning quietly to himself he shifted his hips and felt his hole begin to leak again, and his cock fill out from its semi. “More,” he gasped.

Castiel raised his hand up, sliding it along his calf and over his thigh before resting it upon the globe of ass, circling his hand upon the flesh and raising it up further tickling his sides and resting them on his shoulder forcing him to lay on his back. Dean closed his eyes and continued to keep his face stationed upon the suitcase against the wall, for as gentle and kind as Castiel was being this was nothing but pity. He cursed his body as the light touches upon his skin ignited the arousal under his skin and relieved him a little of the strained heat.

He inhaled sharply as Castiel’s hand found its way to the closets breast and began to kneed it causing milk to flow out instead of trickle. His hand massaged the flesh and pushed down, the way that he would with to feed Claire, and released the pressure from his chest. His hand stilled for a moment before one of his fingers hesitantly brushed over his nipple causing his back to arch and encourage Castiel to roll the nipple between his fingers. He pulled slightly and released it only to rub the nipple in a circular motion, causing him to pant at the touch.

Castiel released him and shifted on the bed further causing him to bounce a little and for Castiel to push him back onto his side. He felt his hand reach for his thigh to shift it up making his ass cheeks spread a little and his hole to be of easier access. His hand soothed Dean’s skin and caused him to groan.

“Dean, Can I – can I touch you more?” came the deep rumble of the alpha’s voice.

Dean shifted his hips a little causing his bent top thigh to rise more and expose his hole. “Yes,” he gasped.

The first touch of Castiel’s sole finger upon his hole made him moan loudly and arch his hips hoping that Castiel would take the hint. Castiel began to rub his finger over the sensitive pucker, teasing at the entrance by only dipping it in a little before returning to circle him.

“Cas, please. Don’t tease me,” he groaned into the pillow.

Without further fanfare Castiel’s finger sunk into him fully. There was no resistance as his hole was already stretched form his own attempts to relieve his heat and the openness caused Castiel to immediately place a second finger inside of him. He moved them slowly in and out of his hole, the slick leaking down onto the bed underneath him.

“More, Cas, more,” he moaned as his hips began to meet each movement.

“Dean, I don’t think over doing it will hel-“ Castiel protested.

“If you’re not going to knot me then put another fucking finger inside of me,” he snapped.

“Right,” came the soft reply before Dean released a pitched gasp following Castiel’s third and then fourth finger entering him. The stretch was more than he had been capable of and then Castiel’s long fingers touched something within him that caused Dean to grab onto the headboard and see stars. Castiel’s fingers had reached that spot he’d been trying to reach for the past 24 hours.

“YES, right there Cas, right there. Oh fuck. More!”

The pace picked up as Castiel shifted to place his knees behind his back, his hand still inside him moving over his prostate milking him from within. The rapid pointed movements caused Dean to jolt and bounce on the fingers and in turn caused his breast to bounce as well, milk leaking over his chest once again. His cock smacked against his stomach and slowly he reached one trapped hand against the bed down to pull on his cock.

“Yes, Cas. Fuck Alpha. Just like that. OH FUCK,” Dean yelped in ecstasy as Castiel’s free hand moved from behind Dean to pinch one of his nipples, rubbing the escaped milk over them and squeezing htem in time with his own hole.

“That’s it beautiful. You’re almost there. I’ve got you.” Castiel whispered to him as Dean’s climax began to finally rise past the perpetual plateau and crest.

His eyes flew wide open as his body skyrocketed finally over the edge. The electric shock zipped down spine to his hole and made his hole clench around the still moving fingers within him. Castiel never once let up moving his fingers over his prostate, and spreading them while pinching and flicking his nipples. The continual feeling that did not cease with his orgasm caused him to skyrocket again.

“Cas, Oh oh god Cas. It’s – again. Yes. YES, Caaa-AH,” he flew over the edge once again feeling not only his cock seep once more, and his nipples squirt, but also his hole send a gush of slick. Dean experienced his first real full omega orgasm.

Gasping he found his face in his pillow, searching for clarity and his sanity. He felt Castiel release him and slowly back up only to return and begin to wipe down his body. Once he was clean Dean turned his face to Castiel, giving him a goofy grin only for it to fall away at the realization that Castiel was not smiling. Castiel avoided his eyes and reached for the blanket at his feet pulling it over him. Slowly he turned around, opened the door and left.

For the first time in two days Dean felt cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all requested more plot.... so what started as potential smut only has now become something. I hope you all enjoy :)

Two more days passed in a similar way. His heat would get stronger every time Castiel entered the room to bring him food and drinks. Castiel would either sit on the edge of the bed or kneel behind him. He would raise Dean’s leg to rest either around his hips, or over his shoulder to keep his leaking hole exposed, open and him comfortable. He never hurt him. He never rushed him. And he never once whispered any further words of approval. Dean could tell that Castiel was aroused, but he only relieved him with his hands.

Once in his hazed mind of ecstasy he had reached to cup Castiel within his pants, rubbing his cock’s head within his palm only for the alpha to growl at him and throw his hand back at him. From the hall he would hear Claire cry, only to have Mrs. Milton cooing at her. As his heat faded and he no longer needed Castiel’s scent or hand Mrs. Milton brought Claire in to be fed. The moment alone with her in his exhaustion brought tears to his eyes. He had apologized to them both only for the older woman to cup his cheeks and rub the tears away telling him it was okay.

He didn’t see Castiel after that.

In the distance, about a yard away from the porch door, Mrs. Milton set up a nice bathing area for him just peaking from behind a large Joshua tree to clean up and find some peace. She told him not to worry and to just enjoy the sun warmed water in the tin tub.

As he stood in the warm water he reached down to rub the dried slick, milk and semen from his skin. Scrapping it off in anger as he cursed his body once again, only to hear the deep voice of Castiel talking gently to his daughter from the porch, unaware that we was still in ear shot. He listened to him tell her sweet nothings, tell her how much she was loved and finally how lucky he was to have her. Dean crouched in the small basin behind the tree and cried. He cried in his exhaustion, in embarrassment, in anger, and in mourning. He loved that Castiel loved his daughter so much and that he was an attentive and proactive parent. He appreciated that he had gladly taken Dean in, yet he was deeply ashamed that part of his duty now included taking care of Dean in the most clinical way possible as well. He waited for the sun to set and Castiel to take Claire back into the house before he rose from the dirty cold water, redressed and walked into the house to resume his life.

As he entered the quiet home, he found a covered plate of food sitting on the table with a note.

 

**_Claire is fed, clean and asleep. You only need to put the food in the oven for a little bit. ~~Sleep w~~_ **

**_~Castiel_ **

Dean stared down at the note, picked it up and scrunched it up before jamming it in his pocket. Once again Castiel had to take care of Claire and Dean. As he waited for his dinner to warm up he stared out the window and promised himself that starting tomorrow it would be different. Tomorrow he would be different. He would remember his place and stop trying to be friends with Castiel. He would call up his mother and ask her to send him some of the omega aids for his heats. He was Castiel’s servant and Claire’s wet nurse and nanny. Nothing more. Nothing less. 

That night he cried himself to sleep and awoke a few hours before dawn to feed Claire and begin the next day.

 

____________

 

The creaking of the old porch steps and swift knock left upon the door drew Dean’s attention outside to find the **California Chronicles** upon the doorsteps. In the distance he watched as a young man on a bicycle pedaled back into town, while bouncing Claire on his hip. The sun was high in the sky and the heat had long set into the house. In his attempts to keep cool with Claire he’d been hiding in the dark shadows of the cellar. He knew it would seem off-putting to the alpha to see his daughter in the dank room, but it was the only place cool enough to allow her some sleep. It had been a long few nights as the summer had crept into the small farmhouse causing sleeplessness to seep into all three of its occupants.

A season of rebirth and rain drying to scorched grounds had marked the passing of months gone by since he’d last decided to approach the Miltons as his employers rather than the possibility at another family. He no longer spoke with, nor sat at the dinner table with Castiel. In the first two weeks of his self-declaration he’d weaned Claire off a few minutes of her scheduled feeding so that she proclaimed her hunger around the time Castiel returned home to eat dinner. While he ate so did Claire within her room. He would briefly see Castiel as he passed her beautiful little soul to the arms of her loving father. Dean would keep his eyes only upon Claire and then nod his head, with his eyes to the floor, as he exited the parlour area to hide in his room. Some nights, he went out to the metal tub and bathed in the setting sun’s beams waiting for Claire to be placed in her basket. Once he was sure Castiel was either in his room or in the parlour he’d return to feed her once more while stroking her small head and whispering words of endearment. He loved those quiet moments at night just the two of them rocking back and forth by the window in the moon’s early light. He’d realized early on that even if Claire grew up to see him as nothing more than a servant, Dean would love her as if she were his own, for she was his only possible chance at a child now.

Dean leaned down to pick up the paper flipping open the front page to see the latest from the city and any news from the capital. At the top of the page it read May 2, 1910. The date gave him pause as he stared down at the date: Sammy’s 17th birthday. He closed his eyes briefly wondering if he should call, if he was allowed or whether a letter would be better sufficed. Sighing he opted for folding the paper back up and setting down upon the steps, allowing the minimal breeze to cool his and Claire’s sweat wet foreheads. Some fresh air might do them well.

Sitting upon the steps he lifted the edge of his undershirt and dragged it over his head to allow Claire to feed.

Laughing at the wiggling hungry child he shifted her to sit in front of him on his lap, letting her lean forward and place her mouth upon his breast.

“Okay, okay you silly girl. Eat up,” he stroked his palm upon the back of her head.

He looked absently into the distance watching as a bird swooped in the wind down to the ground and back up following an invisible path upon the current. The skies were wide, blue and gave a hazed glow of heat. He looked down to find Claire smacking her lips, releasing his nipple and shifting back to look up at him.

Stroking her cheek he smiled down at her, “Hello bug, did you have enough for now?”

She smiled and gurgled up at him, squirming once again in her desire to crawl around on the porch. Soon, he thought, she’d be walking and from there he was certain she’d be running. Only shortly after would he be venturing into making her eat solids and the thought made his mind cloud with worry. Would Castiel keep him to take care of and help raise Claire? Or would his usefulness wither with his milk? Would they send him home or just set him down the same path the newspaper boy now took away from here?

His thoughts were interrupted by the aggressive shrill of the telephone coming from just inside the house. He placed Claire upon the porch and rose to grab the phone.

“Castiel Milton’s residence, how may I help?” he asked.

“Oh Dean sweetheart, thank goodness. Just the one I wanted to speak with,” came Mrs. Milton’s relieved voice.

“Hello, Mrs. Milton. How may I help you?” he smiled.

If he was being honest Mrs. Milton scared him a little. She reminded him of an old oak from back home in Kansas. Tall. Strong. Mature. A pillar of the Milton family. However, she was also his one great comfort outside of Claire herself. Naomi Milton was a no nonsense woman, but also a woman who cared fiercely for all those that did right by her family, and under her books Dean was one of those people.

“I wanted to ask you to speak with Castiel. He is being unreasonable and absolutely obtuse within regards to our Claire.”

Dean’s brows furrowed and a grimace reached his lips, “Mrs. Milton I’m not sure that is my pla-”.

“Don’t be ridiculous. That boy of mine speaks highly of you. Now at dinner what you need to do is slap some sense into him. Figuratively. Literally. I don’t care you do what you must Dean. It’s for the sake of Claire’s soul.”

“Mrs. Milton I’m sure that yo-" 

“He has informed me that Claire has already been baptized by the priest that saw her dear mother off. But Dean we both know that a Christening is not complete until family has recognized it, godparents at the very least. Yes, He has ordained it by the hands of his own, but surely Claire deserves the guidance and acknowledgement of her family. You understand Dean.”

“Sure. But Mrs. M-” he stuttered.

“Good, good. Alright, Dean I’ll be by tomorrow to help with the dinner for the new company owner of Castiel’s stores in preparation for the following days dinner. Have a good night dear and give that beautiful girl of ours a kiss from Grandma. Goodbye.”

Dean stared at the cylinder in his hand as his mouth hung open in mid vocalization cut short by Mrs. Milton’s quick conversation. Slowly he placed it upon its cradle and walked back out to get Claire, who was babbling to herself while she rolled from side to side on her back with her foot in her mouth.

“Come on silly bug, back into the cool cellar. Just need to grab some water and one of those apples your Dad got from your Uncle Gabriel,” he pitched his hip to place her upon it listening to her babble back at him while she chewed upon her own chubby fingers.

Picking up an apple he rubbed it on his shirt and walked down into the cellar taking a large bite before taking the chunk out of his mouth and giving it to Claire to chew on while sucking on the juice.

“Now you be good down here and where I can see you while I make your father’s dinner.”

A few hours passed as he organized a cool array of fresh vegetables. He’d grown them in the garden, now complete with the end of the raining season and induction of the dry. He combined the cooling splash of the apples with a small rub of cinnamon. It was unconventional, he knew, but he figured that after a long day in the heat and with the new owner, he’d appreciate simple and refreshing. In the ground of the cellar was a cool bottle of town ale awaiting his arrival.

The sun began to set which meant that it was time to take Claire to her room and feed her. But as he walked down into the cellar he found her curled up in her nest of blankets sleeping. Carefully he picked her up in the basket and moved her to the parlour, wanting to keep her sleeping and cooler, but out of the cellar. As he returned from placing her in the room, he closed the trap door and heard the creak of the old steps with the weight of Castiel’s feet.

He grabbed the beer he’d taken out of the cellar before gathering Claire and put it down on the kitchen table. Puttering as he awaited Castiel’s entry. He heard him stop in the parlour to see his daughter, giving a soft hello to her sleeping form and then coming to sit down at the table.

“Hello Dean,” came Castiel’s gravel tone.

Gulping and loosing his nerves over the information he looked out the window before turning around. He might not be able to say the whole story but he could deliver a part of the message.

Without looking at him he turned around and focused his eyes upon the dinner plate in front of him.

“Your mother called this afternoon and would like you to call her back.”

The sound of Castiel groaning caused him to lift his eyes slightly to take in the distressed alpha. His smell began to fill his nose with stress, exhaustion, sadness and irritation. As Castiel’s eyes shifted to take him in, Dean looked away and nodded his goodnights before opting to disappear.  

“Dean,” came Castiel’s voice, stopping him in his tracks. “Please sit and dine with me. Just for tonight.”

Not knowing how to object to who was essentially his boss and landlord, he inhaled deeply to calm his nerves and sat down across from him at the small kitchen table.

“Are you not eating?”

Realizing how awkward it seemed he got back up and made himself a plate of vegetables, choosing to leave the apples alone, as they were not his to eat. As he sat down, Castiel slid his small plate of cinnamon dusted apples into the centre.

“No reason we can’t share these,” he smiled at Dean, only for Dean to smell the change from a hesitant happy hopeful alpha scent to a deflated sad one as Dean once again looked away from him without a word.

The silence was filled with quiet crunches of carrots and the soft clink of a fork from Castiel cutting his tomatoes. Dean wished to be anywhere, but in the room with Castiel.

The soft breeze from outside floated into the house and wafted Castiel’s honey rain scent directly into his nose. With each breath he was reminded through the hazed memories of his heat of Castiel’s touch upon his skin, the feel of ecstasy teased from his breast and hole and the release only ever found within those moments of relieved heat. Each memory was bracketed by reality and his currently uncomfortable meal.

Across from him he heard Castiel clear his throat before speaking, “Did she, my mother, by chance call to ask you to convince me to a Christening party for Claire?”

Awkwardly Dean froze, shifting his eyes guiltily up to Castiel and back down to his plate, giving Castiel all the confirmation he needed.

He heard Castiel swear quietly to himself before a hand reached out for him from across the table. Castiel’s fingers tapped lightly before reaching further, just enough to touch Dean’s own hand, lightly dusting a tentative tender touch, only for Dean in his pain to stay away from the alpha and remove his hand from the table. The pained scent was accompanied by a tiny inhale of air from the alpha. Dean knew that his action had hurt the man, but it was for the better he thought.

Castiel’s hand stayed for a little while longer before following suit and being tucked under the table mirroring Dean’s own posture.

“I think I owe you some sense of an explanation as to why,” a slight pause followed before a soft conclusion was whispered for only Castiel’s ears, “for everything.”

Dean shifted in his chair keeping his ears perked for Claire, his way out, but only hearing the weight of silence filling the room.

“I’ll be as brief as I can. You don’t need to know the details, they are gruesome and quiet honestly I don’t think I could retell it, yet, you deserve to know.”

Dean waited once more as Castiel gathered whatever strength he needed to tell whatever story he felt Dean needed to hear.

“When I was a teenager I had been sent by my mother to gather the local priest. My father had just passed away and she did not take it well. It may seem unimportant to the why of now, but it explains why we are here and not the city. Why I refuse to leave this house I grew up in, why my mother doesn’t stay with me to care for Claire and,” he paused to laugh weakly, “why the furniture looks so old.”

Dean found himself smiling, but it was weak and delivered to the plate rather than what he knew was an alpha still seeking a connection he could not give without delivering him his own heart. A heart that was already unwillingly disposed of upon his daughter and one he knew if given a chance would be gifted with a bow to Castiel.

Noting that the attempt at humour had failed, Castiel’s sad scent continued to gently baste itself upon the dinner table before he continued to speak.

“This house, this land, belonged to my father. He had grand ideas about growing a paradise. He believed that with the right guidance and commitment even the barren lands of rural southern California could be fruitful. And once upon a time, when I was very young, they had. For acres all you could see were fruit trees; A successful orchard. But as I got older and grew higher so did the heat. Our once temperate land, dried up and the trees went with it. My father supposedly died of consumption, but I believe it was a broken heart and spirit.”

Unable to keep his eyes cast downwards Dean watched Castiel’s wistful face lighten as he focused his eyes outside through the window to the lonely tree remaining on the property.

“I ran all the way from here to town. About 5 miles. By the time I got to the church the sun was setting and I was so tired I felt like I was going to collapse. I burst into the Church and slumped down into the aisle. The Father came towards me, but it was the voice of an angel crouching down beside me that lifted my spirits enough to tell them why I had arrived. The voice helped me from the floor and delivered me to the carriage, comforting my quietly crying form home where we laid my father to rest.”

Dean watched as Castiel’s hand rubbed along the grain of the wooden table and fiddled absently with the lace on the tablecloth.

“That summer I fell in love with the young woman that voice belonged to and when we turned 18 I married her. Amelia Everett was – was so beautiful. Gentle. Kind. Godly. She brought faith back to our family, she helped us place joy again in this house; the house was gifted to us on our wedding day by my mother. We hadn’t wanted to have children immediately; I’d just started my job in town at the General Store and the Hotel – working the books and number for them- so we waited. But when we started, Amelia and I had our troubles. And then one day, about a year and half or so ago, Am rode into town, swung her legs right off the horse and crashed into my office to tell me we were expecting. She’d been so loud that even my brother Gabriel told me he’d heard her hollering at me about the baby on its way.”

Castiel’s joyful smile once again turned.

“The pregnancy wasn’t easy on her. She lost weight because she could barely keep anything down. However, two months before Claire was born she found her strength. My mother had estimated her labour time and had stayed with us in the house to comfort Amelia during the pains. I thank God that she was there, cause I’m not sure Claire would have survived the birth if it were just me. The labour was harsh, and long. It lasted through the night and most of the day following – you’d have never known with the storm whipping outside that day.”

Dean’s full attention was upon the alpha now quietly crying in his memories of what was supposed to be the happiest days of his life. He knew what had happed to Amelia before he said the words, but the truth of them still made his heartache for the child fast asleep and the mate clearly still mourning in front of him.

“The weakness she’d obtained from early on had depleted her ability to stay healthy through the delivery. The midwife that arrived some days later to check on Claire had informed me that sometimes in the need to deliver the child something broke within. I was unable to stop the bleeding after Claire was born. My mother had told me to take Claire to see the tree and watch the sunrise while the midwife and her cleaned the room. The priest – the same priest that had introduced us- had attended to my wife in her slow passing and had baptized Claire in the room with Amelia still alive- weak but alive. My mother was the witness, while I held her over a small bowl of water. It was the last time Amelia kissed our daughter. So you can see why I don’t care so much for a Christening Party. To me. To Amelia. To God. It happed, it was real and it was full of love. That’s all that matters.”

Castiel sniffled and wiped the tears away from his face with the palm of his hand. Dean wanted to say something but he was unsure of what to say, the only thing that felt right was reassurance.

“As it should,” he stated gently allowing Castiel to connect his eyes with his own for the first time in months.

Castiel opened his mouth to respond before the soft hungry whimpers of Claire brought both their attentions to the parlour.

“Duty calls,” Dean smiled genuinely.

As he rose to get Claire he stopped and turned around to look back at Castiel, “Thank you for telling me all of – all of it. For what it’s worth, I think Amelia would have been very proud of how good of a father you are to Claire. Amelia and your own father both would have.”

With that he walked away from the wafting soft smell of summer rain brightening the house. Dean knew that his own scent rose and mingled with Castiel’s equally pleased at the honesty shared between them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO MUCH for the feedback. It makes my heart full. Enjoy!

The rush of the day leading to the dinner was full of warm smells heating the small house. The apple pie, his mother’s recipe, was helped along with the last of Gabriel’s apples and freshly bought sugar cane. Mrs. Milton supplied the yeast, where it had sat in the pantry in her town apartment above the General Store. The last touch to the pie was the dish in which it was baked and cooled in. The dish once belonged to Amelia had adorned the window sill in its beauty of red roses and porcelain; one day it would become Claire’s.

In the center of the table, was a freshly washed and air-dried crisp white tablecloth. The laced design and embroidery was another mark of the lovely woman who used to live there. As they awaited the plucked chicken from the day before roasting in the oven, Mrs. Milton and Dean sat on the stairs outside peeling potatoes and carrots while they chatted about the memories swirling around the house.

The silence comfortably filled in the space of time between Mrs. Milton and himself. Once in a while the cooing of Claire from the patio’s shade would make them smile fondly at each other. However, the comfortable silence ended at about mid-afternoon when Claire became hungry.

“Okay bug I’m coming, I’m coming” Dean crouched down to pick up Claire rocking in rigid distress from the soft strokes of hunger pains.

In the corner of her eyes tears had began to build causing Dean to quiet her by pouncing side-to-side on the balls of his feet, “Oh honey. I know I know. Let’s just sit down in this chair that your Dad brought out for us and you can have something to eat.”

Dean sat down upon one of the kitchen chairs that had been placed outside when Castiel realized that the two of them would be outside most of the day preparing the meal. Juggling Claire’s stiff crying form in front of his lap he held her up with one hand and moved his button-up to the side.

Usually he walked around the house with just an undershirt, but when Mrs. Milton spent the day he made sure to dress appropriately. The only adjustment to the usual attire was the lack of the same undershirt because it was easier to feed Claire with less fabric. 

He shrugged his shoulders and allowed the short-sleeved blouse to float over his shoulder blades and drape itself over his elbows. Claire reached out for him, already knowing that once his skin was exposed as such that her hunger pains were about to be absolved.

“Okay bug, you know what to do. I’ll just be here,” he cooed at her.

Claire leaned forward with her mouth open wide and latched on to one of his breast. Dean placed his hand just under her bum and scooted her closer so she wasn’t leaning so far and could snuggle up against him when her fed belly eventually led to a nap.

Stroking her head absently he jumped when Claire’s tiny little teeth, just beginning to peek through the gums, bite him.

“Ouch,” his back bolted away from the child’s tiny almost non-existing chompers.

His exclamation caused Mrs. Milton to pause in her work and look up at the two of them, “What happened?”

“She bit me.”

Laughing Mrs. Milton rose to take a look at Dean’s breast and Claire’s mouth. Gently she allowed Claire to suckle upon her finger and she felt around.

“Her teeth have peeked out more today,” laughing again she nudged Claire’s head back to Dean’s breast and resumed her work on the stairs. “When her father was her age he used to bite when I’d run low on milk. Or apples. In fact that boy used to bite his brothers once he realized he could.”

Warily Dean watched Claire again and encouraged her to latch to the other breast, “Oh joy, it’s familial.”

The momentary peace found in a resumed normal feeding was stopped once again as Claire released him and moved back to the first breast. Again she sucked and bit him a little in the process.

“Okay, okay Little Miss Crocodile I think that’s enough for you. I’m going to get you a peach to suck on in the mean time.”

He returned to the porch after cutting up peeled peaches for Claire to suck on while they worked. Sitting down once more with the potato peeler he paused to rub his chest. Frowning he thought about how for the last two to three days their feeding time had become less and less. He was running out of milk and the strain it was having on his body was taking its toll. He knew that with constant stimulus his body was capable of producing milk much longer than normal, but he was like some of the other Omegas. The omegas that had a child, and then their own bodies decided when it was time to wean them off the breast. It could be a number of factors: exhaustion, stress, nature.

Mrs. Milton continued to chop carrots, but he could feel her eyes on his form once and a while. However, he knew it was best to wait for her to speak.

“Dean dear. Are you – are you having trouble producing milk?” came her gentle stern voice.

Panicking a little he began to press too hard into the meat of the potato, scrapping away most of the vegetable with the peel in the process. “It’s only for now. I’m sure it’s just the stress of the dinner.”

“Hmm,” she responded, clearly not believing him.

Behind him he heard the light smacking of Claire’s lips on the sticky peach. He would have to make sure to give her a bath before her father returned home with their guest. 

“Are they sore?”

“A little,” he responded as the wind brushed lightly upon Dean’s head, wet with perspiration and now with nerves.

“I’m only going to ask a few questions, cause I noticed our Claire tugging quiet a lot on your poor chest and it’s with you and Claire in mind. Please don’t think this is meant with anything other than your and her benefits."

Nodding he waited. He waited for the questions he did not know and one’s he was sure were set to position him on the road home.

“How many months has it been since your own child was born?”

The question caused his hand to freeze half way though peeling and almost drop it in the process. He couldn’t breath and his heart felt like it had suddenly darkened once more. But he knew he had to answer. She was asking, not out of malice, but out of love for her granddaughter and by extension her youngest son.

“Almost a year in a month,” he whispered, closing his eyes as the gentle maternal caress of Mrs. Milton’s hand reached out for his own.

“And did you feed them after the birth?”

Mrs. Milton’s hand squeezed his own allowing him to gather her strength to supply his own before responding, “Only for two we-“

His throat began to close and tears started to peek out of his eyes. Clearing his throat and trying to chase the sorrow away he tried once more, “Only for two weeks. But she– she caught the sniffles a few days after and she never really was able to get rid of it. She,” Dean began to softly hiccup in his tears, “She caught something and the doctor that was called to the house had said it was pneumo-something. I tried to feed her, but she was too weak and was already having trouble breathing.”

Quietly he cried at the memory, the pain of the loss causing him to clutch the potato and knife in his hand promoting Mrs. Milton to remove them from his grasp.

“What happened to her Dean?” she softly nudged.

As he closed his eyes to the memory, his mind still supplied the image of his daughter motionless, and blue tucked amongst a soft blanket in the box by the window. From a distance in in his morning haze she had looked so peaceful. No longer had he heard the crackling in take of breath, or the glassy-eyed gaze of the fever. He remembered how her soft skin had felt dangerously and frighteningly cooled to his touch. She had not responded to him, nor had she opened her eyes. Shaking his head he chased away the memories of that day of how he screamed at his brother to bring her back, and how his father, even in his early distress decided that the best thing for his own son was to remove his reluctant granddaughter from the house. He knew now it was an act of charity not malevolence.

“I woke up to feed her once more, but she – she wasn’t breathing. I remembering calling for Sammy to get Mom. Sammy tried to bring her back but she – she passed during the night.”

“What was her name?”

“Emma,” he offered her name to the summer heat and hoped somewhere somehow the birds floating on the current could pass along his forever love.

Mrs. Milton kissed the side of his head and rocked him in her arms slowly. Before trying to gently break the mood, “You know I rarely did this for my own children. I think it’s now high time you call me Naomi.”

“Yes mam’,” he bashfully sniffled at her.

“Tsk, cheeky,” her smile fell from its comfort back to its usual stern set, “I think I know why you are having troubles feeding.”

“What do you mean?” he asked his anxiety peeking once more as he wiped away his tears.

Pausing Naomi looked directly at him, preparing him for a lesson in parenting, “You were unable to feed your own child in the first two weeks. Thus your body has been conditioned to not need to provide much. Now you’ve provided well for Claire, but your body knows or rather believes that it’s done it’s job in feeding it’s own child. Claire still needs the nutrients you can provide, but your breast have tapped out on their duty to the child it had been reserved for.”

The darkness in his heart ignited a storm of turmoil within his stomach. How was he going to convince them he wasn’t useless? That Claire still needed him and no one else? He wanted to stay, but Mrs. Milton had just claimed he could do no more for them.

“Halt those worries Winchester. You have not outgrown Missy quiet yet, or rather we haven’t’ had enough of you yet.”

Shifting his eyes back to Mrs. Milton’s face he searched for what she was trying to say.

“What I am telling you is that however long you want to stay here and help Castiel with Claire or the house or perhaps the shop in town, the family will welcome you.”

The realization that he was wanted by the Mrs. Milton, the family’s matriarch, brought colour once more to his heart and cheeks, “Mrs. Milton I couldn’t possibly impose-”

“Nonsense. You are a part of the family. Employed by Castiel? Sure. But loved and valued by all of us nonetheless. And besides I may be overzealous, but as the head of the family I get the last say on any matter and you my dear, I very much enjoy you. Plus if you leave who the heck is going to continue to snap sense into our boy?”

Dean searched for the right words to express his relief and his gratitude. But the words were not found before the older woman dusted off her Gibson skirt and carried the chopped vegetables to the kitchen. He watched as she paused to sing sweet nothings down to her granddaughter giggling at her sticky hands clapping in front of her face.

Finishing the potato on hand he tucked it into his pant pocket to add it to others in the house and got up to pick up Claire.

“Look at you silly girl you’re covered in peach juice.”

Claire smiled at him from his hip and placed a sticky hand upon his cheek, laughing at the face he made. 

“Let’s go get you cleaned up out back. I’ve got a tub waiting for me and you in the sun. How does that sound?” he smiled at her as he passed through the kitchen to drop off the poorly peeled potato and walked out back to the Joshua tree where they both got cleaned up before awaiting the arrival of their guest.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for still having interest. So much positive feedback and it's ... THANK YOU!

The sun set and welcomed the return of Castiel with their guest to the small farmhouse holding the feast awaiting their arrival. Dean had put on his best slacks, the one’s he’d worn on the train here and had tucked a short sleeved blouse into them. On his feet were the scuffed shoes, shined again from his own care and a reminiscence of his mother; God how he missed her. Together Mrs. Milton, Naomi, and himself had dressed Claire in a small pale blue dress, and after fighting with her to put shoes on, both of them had decided she could just go barefoot tonight. The decision was made that a happy baby was better than an impeccable dressed grumpy one.

Puttering in the kitchen he listened to Mrs. Milton welcoming Castiel home and their guest into the parlour. He listened to the quiet mummer of the two men sitting down with a drink offered to them by the matriarch, before he heard Castiel excuse himself to say hello to those in the kitchen.

“Hello Dean,” he smiled at him from the archway and came up behind him to peek over his shoulder at the gravy being turned in the pan by Dean.

“Smells amazing,” he turned from Dean, his hand subconsciously brushing over his shoulder and causing Dean’s breath to stop at the small possessive contact.

Once he found his daughter on the kitchen floor he walked over to her immediately, “Well hello there gorgeous. Don’t you look beautiful. Did Dean dress you? and Grandma too?”

Dean smiled as he turned to find Claire making grabbing hands in the air at her father, asking to be picked up and smiling in peaceful satisfaction as she tucked her head under Castiel’s chin once he did. Dean watched the sight before him of father and child rocking back and forth in comfort and listened to Castiel as he asked her how her day was and if she’d been good.

“We had a good day, didn’t we bug?” Dean asked Claire as he walked over to tuck a stray curl behind her ear, the gentle touches causing her eyes to drift close a little in the comfortable scent shared around her between the two men. “We had a bath, after I gave her some peaches, which she promptly decided were best served all over her face and chubby little hands.”

Laughing Castiel craned his head to look down at her, “Did you make a mess for Dean to clean up? You silly girl. He does enough for you and now he’s in charge of monitoring you with peaches. Come now sweetie, surely save that kind of adventure for cherry season.”

The glee twinkling in Castiel’s eyes caused Dean to scoff at him and turn back to the bubbling gravy. “Don’t encourage her. If you do you might return home to find a red head instead of blond.”

Kissing Claire’s forehead, Castiel smiled gently at the three of them, “I’d be okay with that.”

Dean returned his full attention to the meal being prepared, bending down to get the vegetables out of the oven, the meat already sitting on the counter to rest and desert already long prepared and awaiting them in the evening. Dean was prepared with a kettle of fresh water for tea or coffee. He felt Castiel peek once more over at the food in the kitchen and whisper quietly to him, “Everything looks and smells amazing. Thank you, Dean.”

A deep blush could be felt appearing upon Dean’s cheeks and neck, causing him to bashfully turn his head a little away from the man, “Thank you Alpha.”

The scent of a clean summer rain and sweet honey swept through the corner of the kitchen in which they both stood; A tense, warm and charged moment of gratitude and hope. Castiel’s presence stepped back from him but not before his free hand once again placed itself purposely upon Dean’s shoulder with his thumb rubbing gently into the fabric and skin only squeezing his bicep gently in reassurance as he moved away.

The simmer of arousal from the soft touch and gentle presence was not as much as a sexual charge, but a longing for something more. A longing for a friend, a partner and a mate. He wanted so much more from his life, from Castiel, but he knew that regardless of the circumstances, it was an inappropriate dream to yearn for.

His thoughts of longing were interrupted by Castiel walking to the archway and calling to the man within the parlour.

“Mister Adler why don’t you join us in the kitchen, Dean’s just about ready to begin dinner.”

Nothing could have prepared Dean for the stone-cold fear the filled his every vein upon hearing Mr. Adler’s voice.

“Perfect, it’s been so long since I’ve had a home cooked meal. About time someone I come to visit offers the warmth of their home and hospitality of an omega. Ah hello Dean I’ve heard so much about you,” Mr. Adler walked up to introduce himself to Dean.

But the fear that had him in place was not that of social concerns all reach when meeting someone of importance but rather because he knew his voice, his smell and he knew the sneer that would be hidden behind the face once he turned around. The man just at his back, in his kitchen, about to eat the food he’d prepared, and surely would be cooing over Claire was a man he’d wished he’d never have to see again. He knew Mr. Adler. He knew him in a way he wished he never did.

“Dean?” came Castiel’s concerned voice.

Closing his eyes Dean forced all of his fears away, or at least to the side, because this was important. Castiel, the alpha of the house, his beautifully gentle attentive employer, needed this visit with Adler to be a success. This wasn’t about Dean or anything that had happened in the past. What he needed to find was the will to sit down with a smile at the table with the man that would provide stability for the family he’d come to love. For them, for Claire and for Castiel, he would sit with a smile, eat dinner and serve his mother’s pie to the man that had so brutally placed him in this very situation.

Once the smile was painted in the place and his eyes found their fake gleam he turned to see the balding and smiling face of Zachariah Adler.

“Hello, sir. Welcome to the Milton residence. If you’ll just have a seat I’ll get you a plate.”

Zachariah clapped his hands in excitement, “Perfect. Can’t wait.”

Dean flicked his eyes over to Castiel to see him frowning at Dean’s demeanour. He knew that something was wrong.

He gathered the plates from the table, leaning over the edge of the surface to gather Mrs. Milton’s at the far. As he leaned over he felt Zachariah’s eyes bore into his flesh and skirt over his face, side and settle upon his ass. Dean knew that even as he turned, his eyes would remain on Dean’s lower backside, taking in the view he felt was deserved to him.

“Such a lucky man you are Castiel. A nice home, a fantastic mother, a smart child and a beautiful omega to care for everything. You’ve got it good. One can only hope that I can find the things you have while I’m here.”

Dean’s stomach turned as he heard his emphasis on the word everything. It was obvious to everyone in the room that he meant even the obscene acts. And Dean almost began to cry at the realization that he wasn’t completely wrong. Dean may not take care of Castiel in that way, but Castiel had taken care of Dean in his heat. He was no better than the undignified category he was being placed in.

He picked up the plate and noticed his hands were shaking. All he wanted to do was run, but that was not an option so in order to save face he quickly placed Zachariah’s plate on the table along with Castiel’s and turned abruptly to gather Mrs. Milton’s and his own.

Clearly the stink of fear and his uneven demeanour had not escaped the Miltons. Both of them frowned with concern at Dean, but continued to listen to the man before them. He talked on and on about what he had done. How successful he was and how he took pity on those in lesser towns. Castiel, it was clear, was a charity case.

But all Dean could think of as he picked at the mashed potato moat he’d made, was how Zachariah’s hands had felt upon his skin. How the man had talked to him with his the Winchester horses in the afternoon, only to return drunk later in the night while he put the horses to bed and drag him into one of the stables. He shook further as he remembered how his breath had reeked of stale beer and tobacco. How he’d thrown him into a stable wall knocking his head hard enough to make him disoriented while he ripped down Dean’s pants and claimed him for the night. Dean’s knuckles went white around the metal of his fork digging it into his fingers and palm as he slammed the box closed in his memory of the pain he’d felt in the actions that followed and how dirty he’d felt when Zachariah had spit on his face before kicking dirt and hay against his then sticky backside. While he forcefully did not remember the act, he remembered the bruises, and scrapes that marred his skin the days after and then a month later when his mother realized his flu was more than a flu.

With each atrocious sound of food gushing between his teeth and the sound of his boisterous voice boomed over the quiet table he sunk into his head. The autopilot he’d placed himself in was yanked from him when Claire began to cry. She was hungry once more and it was time.

Dean reached for her on her grandmother’s lap and excused himself to go hide within Claire’s room to feed her, place her in bed and hide in the room for the rest of the night. But his plans for solitude and comfort were swatted.

“Nonsense. We all know what you are and the girl’s hungry. Feed her at the table. There’s no shame in what you omega’s do for the young. Pop back in your seat next to me young omega. Let us all see how you get along.”

In panic Dean darted his eyes to Castiel, begging him to let him leave, only to have Claire begin to wail in her impatience. Not knowing what to do and noticing that Castiel was just as a lost for words at the odd claim from his future patron, Dean walked back to his chair.

Slowly he positioned himself at an angle away from the man instead facing Castiel, and unbuttoned his top three buttons. Before he could pull it to one side Castiel’s hands clasped with his own stopping him from continuing and leaning down to kiss Claire’s head.

“You know what, I think it’s best Dean puts Claire to bed. No reason to have her miss the hour needed to place her there. If we miss it poor Dean and I will be up all night comforting our Claire. Go on. I’ll take care of the rest. Thank you Dean.”

With tears of gratitude in his eyes Dean dashed down the hall and into Claire’s room, placing a small chair in front of the door. Kissing Claire’s forehead he removed her dress so she was cooler and moved his shirt off his shoulders with shaky hands and placing her in the crook of his arms, thus allowing her to settle in to feed and eventually fall asleep.

“There you go bug. My beautiful lifesaver,” he closed his eyes and smelled the comforting smell of caramel and fresh rain upon her head. She smelled like baking and her father all in one.

Dean rocked her back and forth, dancing in the moonlight coming through the dark room. As he danced with her in his arms he ignored the bites coming from her hungry mouth and fluidly moved her to his other breast thanking God that at least the second one was still producing enough milk to satisfy her. In the moonlight, he was safe. But with each boisterous solitary laugh from the man in the kitchen his fears spiked and his diminished memory sought an audience.  

The noise gently wound down as dinner came to a close and Zachariah, Dean assumed, was seen back to the city. Yet, he was not brave enough to open the door.

A quiet knock broke the silence in the room as Castiel gently called his name, “Dean?”

Quickly Dean moved the chair to the side and turned the knob to allow Claire’s father to enter.

Castiel opened the door quietly and walked into the room to look down at his daughter, now sleeping soundly with one of Dean’s nipples partially in her mouth. The soothing nature of Dean’s body in close proximity and the suckling movement silenced the worry that had unintentionally taken place in her heart.

Her father raised a hand and smoothed her hair upon her forehead and slowly shifted his eyes up to look at Dean. Dean, who had been watching the soft exchange, was taken aback by the worry in Castiel’s eyes.

“Dean…” he began hesitantly looking for answers.

Gulping Dean responded, “Don’t worry about it Cas. Did he head back into town?”

Frowning Castiel was unable to respond before the heavy footsteps of Zachariah reached his ears and his drunk belligerent smell crowded the bedroom. Dean froze and his arms became ridged as he held Claire, not noticing that Castiel was slowly transferring his own arms, allowing Dean to free himself. Dean stood frozen in place, as he marked zero exits in the room and the rising scent of Alpha aggression and drunken-fuzzy arousal with his own fear.

His shirt was still slung low on his arms from feeding Claire, and he knew that each small breast was glistening in the moonlight from Claire’s saliva. He felt exposed and embarrassed for something that was simple and natural only moments ago. He felt Zachariah’s eyes upon his chest and with each second passing his own skin reminded him of the pain that Zachariah’s hands had left a year ago. Regardless of the scent and the feeling upon his skin, he could not find the ability to breathe properly.

“Damn Milton, have you had a suck on those tits yet? I bet you have. All full and wet,” he staggered into the room and reached for Dean’s chest, “Wet like his slicked up fuckhole. That’s probably pretty good too.”

Before his hand reached his skin, Castiel placed himself directly in front of Dean.

“I think that it’s time we get you back to town. We have a busy day ahead,” he snarled.

The room filled with Alpha hostility, and a tense fire floated within the air. If Dean had lite a match he was certain the room would have exploded from the testosterone.

Zachariah paused and hazily centered his eyes back upon Castiel and nodded, “Rightly so Milton, get me back to my bed.”

With that he staggered out and towards the front door.

Dean shook from the tip of his toes through every nerve and through to the ends of his strands of hair. He couldn’t remember what a fresh breath of air felt like nor how to make his heart stop trying to evacuate. His stomach twisted as his limbs tried to retract into his body, while his soul quietly waited for the moment to scream.

He flinched as a pair of hands cupped his arms before pausing and reaching up to cup his face. Castiel shook his head a little, just enough to make Dean’s darting eyes focus on his blue ones.

“Dean. Dean! Look at me! I have no idea what is happening, but I can make some guesses. I am going to take that man and mother back to town. When I get back I want to find you on the porch out back with a glass of bourbon in your hand. You are going to sit on that step with a blanket and wait for me to come home. I need to know you heard me, omega?”

Stunned he nodded his head, turned around and grabbed Claire’s blanket from the chest by the sidewall and mechanically walked out the backdoor to sit on the porch. The last sound he heard as he looked out at the galaxy of stars while smelling Claire’s baby scent, was the tiny clink of glass where Castiel placed a small glass of bourbon with the bottle beside it. In the distance he heard the sound of clacking doors and dancing horse hooves as they took off to town.

His only thought as the scent faded and sound disappeared was, ‘ _He better come back before I drink all his liquor_.’


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Thank you! 
> 
> Also WARNING: notice the new tag and warning. Although I'm sure most of you already figured out this part of the story.

Dean was unsure how much time had past. All he knew was that at some point in the night, the moon shifted to the other side of the Joshua tree and half the bottle of bourbon was gone. His eyes snapped out of their trance with the clack of the door behind him, marking the return of Castiel. Regardless of the sound he’d have known the alpha’s return because of the wafting smell of rain and honey upon the night air.

Clutching the blanket close to his still exposed chest he was surprised to feel Castiel crouch down in front him on the ground and pull Claire’s blanket away from him. He looked upon the alpha in confusion and absently watched as Castiel placed Claire’s blanket in his lap while he slowly dragged his blouse back over his still exposed shoulders. Once his shoulders were covered he wrapped him in the blanket and returned to button the blouse up, hiding his chest from the moonlight and his view. Once he was pleased that Dean was taken care of on the outside Castiel extended a gentle touch to his hands holding them, and stroking the skin in reassurance.

“Dean,” he whispered between them.

All he could do was close his eyes and focus his mind upon what he knew the next few words would be. The words and truth that would disgrace him further and make Castiel’s life unnecessarily complicated. However, the soft tenor of Castiel’s voice did not send warnings through his body, but warmed his heart. With each stroke of his thumbs upon his hands, tears formed behind his eyes. He couldn’t help but feel robbed of true possible happiness with this man if it weren’t for Zachariah’s treatment of him; before and now. Perhaps before, in a different time, Castiel would have looked upon him with pride and love, rather than pity and forced care.

One of Castiel’s hands reached up and cupped his face, stroking away a single tear that had escaped.

“Sweet Omega, tell me what is bothering you, please,” he asked.

With his breath shuttering upon his lips Dean scrunched his eyes in forced courage before opening them to stare down at the weathered steps.

“I know him,” he strongly responded before only a gush of a whisper delivered the final confirmation, “from before.”

Castiel’s hands squeezed his in encouragement, “what do you mean?”

His eyes darted up to the stars that had begun to hide behind a possible on coming storm. Yet, peeking behind the clouds, he found the North Star. As his breathing stuttered upon the truth, he heard Sammy’s voice and smiled. ‘ _Whenever you are lost, Dean, you just look for the brightest star in sky. It will bring you home. No matter what.’_

While Sammy had just simply been reading a dusty book of astronomy found in the old town hall library. The words made him realize that he’d made a home for himself with the Miltons, and no matter what, he only needed to find his way. Keeping his eyes upon True North he opened his mouth and let his memories flow without thought.

“My father had always wanted to start a ranch; A good one. He would tell me and Sam stories for days about filling the fields out back at home, the ones that still belonged to someone else far away, with horses. He wanted a whole herd of American Quarters and mom wanted an Appaloosa or two. Maybe, we had thought, we could work something out with the Comanche people around us and start a trade, by adding a few of their own horses to the mix.”

Pausing, Dean reminisced about the image his father had painted for the family, more than a few times during the evening. The sunset in the memories were always met with weary muscles and content sighs while drinking ground chilled Vernor’s Ginger Ale.

“But dreams, dreams cost money. And we were lacking. Don’t get me wrong the Winchesters did all right. Not in the way I’m sure you might think. The rifle guy is a distant second cousin of my dad’s, but rifles never were our deal. Horses. Horses is what the town and surrounding area knows us for. But all we had were a half a dozen mares and two stallions. One beige, the other pure black. Then one day Dad came home smiling ear to ear telling Mom that some Yankee from out of state wanted to co-own the Winchester stables and transform us into a true ranch. It seemed too good to be true.”

Dean brought his eyes down and placed them upon their hands watching as Castiel’s thumb brushed once more over his skin.

“A few days later in galloped Zachariah. He was up on a beautifully chestnut Swedish Warmblood horse. It danced in its place as he brought it to a stop just outside the stables where I was working. He got down and led the horse over to me, smiling as I looked in awe at the creature on our grounds. He smiled and laughed at my questions. Zachariah was generous and pleasant. I remember blushing at him as he winked at me after my father rushed out to greet him, lightly reprimanding me for not coming to find him. He looked around the stables, checked out our stock and listened intently to Dad. I remember him turning back to me pulling me in tight to his sides proclaiming that one day this was going to be five times bigger, with hired hands and all mine. Zachariah shook Dad’s hand and mine, winking at me once more before taking off back to town to make a phone call to his lawyer.”

Stuttering once more within his skin he cleared his throat and continued.

“That night I was outside around the back, where the house was out of sight, brushing down our oldest mare. Zachariah stumbled through the gate and came around the corner to see me. Wanting to help him, I rushed towards him to help. He brushed me off, but I knew only my parent’s were needed in order to help him, so I started out back to the house.

He – he came out of nowhere. I don’t remember the sounds of his feet on the dirt only the sudden grip of his arms wrapped around my shoulders and his hand pulling me back close against his front. It was confusing, I felt sick, and I knew that what was pressed against my back was not good.”

His memory leaked the image of the candles going out in the house in the distance, shutting out his last light of hope. Zachariah had dragged his nose against his neck, scenting him, and groaning while grounding his stiff cock into his backside, placing it between his clothed crack and rutting. His teeth had scrapped along his neck and all that floated in his drunk-hazed brain were his instincts. Dean had shook, as a deep panic set in and his skin crawled with cold ants. Dean was an omega, a young omega, and that was all that had mattered. The last decipher in the shadows of his mind’s locked memory was the terror that ripped though his body as he began to whimper at the prediction of what was to come.

Reaching up he touched the top of his head where Zachariah, in his anger at his resistance, had slammed his head full force into one of the stable’s wooden walls. The pain had sear away his ability to see properly or focus. The only two sensations that told him that his pants had been ripped away was the soft cool air upon exposed skin and the searing pain of Zachariah entering him.

“I told him no, many times that night but he never stopped. Later, when he left I dragged my way to the pump out back washed away the mess and slept outside against the mare. The horses knew, and that was it. Two months later, I couldn’t keep any food down, and my chest was tender. My mother knew, but for the sake of Dad’s temper we kept quiet hoping that my first would just, leave on its own. But she didn’t. The first time my nipples leaked milk, my father raged at me about being irresponsible and a disgrace. Sammy held me as I cried to sleep that night.”

Sniffling he forced bravery to take hold of his face and looked up to look directly at Castiel for the first time and smiled.

“I learned to love the child I grew and was ecstatic to meet her when she finally arrived. The labour was long, but successful. My mother had helped bring her into the world and had wrapped her in a blanket before allowing me to say hello. That morning when Emma had first opened her eyes to look at me, I’d been so happy. She had these beautiful full little pink lips, and hazel eyes like Sammy and Dad. She was ours. She was mine. - She died 12 days later.”

His tears slid down his face as he watched his tears mirrored on Castiel’s face. Castiel’s beauty in melancholy was outlined in the dark sky and the soft glow of the kitchen light from the house. He watched and followed Castiel’s own uneven breathing and nuzzled for comfort into Castiel’s hand as it once more wiped his tears away. Dean in turn reached for him, and slowly moved his thumbs over his high cheekbones.

Slowly Castiel stood and pulled Dean up with him, taking his hand and pulling him through the kitchen, turning out the lights, past Dean’s bedroom, Claire’s and over to his own. He stopped and turned hesitantly to Dean.

“You shouldn’t be alone tonight and I- I can’t leave you to be. Just tell me if, if I’m over stepping,” Castiel’s careful words were spoken gently in the dark hallway.

“You’re not,” he squeezed their joined hands as he felt the continual tears still slipping over his cheeks.

Castiel opened his door and pulled him into the room. By the large window overlooking the land, Dean could see the North Star twinkling in the far corner of the glass, the bed just below. Castiel closed the door and turned around to bring Dean in close against himself. Dean noticed for the first time since he arrived that he was slightly taller than the alpha, but the angle allowed him to perfectly lean into Castiel’s neck and scent him. He was not sure if it was welcomed, but he couldn’t have stopped himself either way. He placed his nose in the crook of Castiel’s neck and smelled the rain and honey scent. His blood tingled and his nerves sung out to the alpha. His heart previously screaming was now silenced in the comfort of Castiel’s arms.

“Come omega, lets get you to bed,” Castiel stepped back and gently guided him to the bed.

Dean sat upon the edge, slipped off his shoes and removed his socks before sliding his body onto the bed. Across the room Castiel removed his belt and shoes before he tugged at his white blouse, untucking it before unbuttoning it to hang once more behind the door with his work clothe. He then sat himself in the small rocking chair by the far corner.

“Cas there is plenty of room in your bed to share,” he whispered over at the silly alpha trying to get comfortable in the wooden chair.

“I- but,” he struggled wanting to give Dean his space.

“Don’t be silly,” he leaned back and patted the empty side of the bed behind him.

Castiel cleared his throat and walked over the bed and lay down on his side. Slowly, Dean turned around to face him and smiled.

“Night Cas.”

“Goodnight Dean,” he smiled in return.

Dean fell into a deep sleep as the clouds continued and the moonset to welcome the new morning sky dashing with the dark blush of a sailors warning. But in his slumber the oncoming storm ceased to be as he slept into mid-morning finding peaceful dreams in each others’ arms.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again I seriously can't tell you how happy it makes me to see the comments! It's giving me inspiration to continue this story that seriously began as short smut and now is becoming a real story. <3
> 
> FYI- what is described is a real thing and as the one cure is breast milk- the other is the cream. Real info *cue the more you know star!*

In the days that followed Zachariah’s visit, Castiel had denied his assistance and had sent a letter to a distant relative in England for help. Dean had begged and fretted with him not to make such a rash decision based on his own past, that he would just be absent when he came for a house call. But Castiel had only told him it was his decision, his alpha voice sweeping through the house, concluding the conversation with the simple conclusion that was reached on Castiel’s own morals. It was a decision that Castiel had told Dean was not due to the unfortunate shared history, but rather the man’s all around demeanour. He had protested one final time stressing that he feared that the burden he’d placed upon the Milton family was now too great, but he was hushed by Castiel calmly marking an end to the conversation.

Yet, another problem had presented itself, one that caused Dean great solitary pain. He was too embarrassed to tell either Castiel or Naomi, and he refused to call home as he feared his mother and father would reprimand him for failing to take full advantage of his new life. All he could do was grit his teeth and introduce more goat milk back into Claire’s diet.

Finding comfort in the Joshua tree and needing the presence of the bath near by to clean, Dean held Claire close to his breast and scrunched his eyes closed at the pain. Claire sucked hard upon his nipple and tugged at his breast for the last drops of milk. He was almost completely dry and Claire had not officially finished her suggested nursing time. However, it was not just the lack of milk that was the problem, but rather that due to the abuse by Claire’s mouth, specifically her new teeth, the suction area was severely chapped and the nipple had signs of splitting. The irritation was enough that after the last few days with each feeding, his nipples had begun to bleed a little. In trying to keep it to himself he knew that he needed to keep the area clean which is why had transferred all of the day feeding outside where he could place her down on the ground to play and practice standing up with the tree as support while he attended to his nipples with a clean wet cloth.

Hissing in pain, he failed to hear the early arrival of Castiel. His eyes snapped open and caused him to whip his head over his shoulder to see Claire screech in excitement as she stumble-crawled to her father who was dashing over to them with a giant gummy smile.

Seeing the man’s long glides bring him closer he cursed, “Fuck.”

Quickly he grabbed his shirt and clenching his fists around it as he placed the buttons through the holes hiding the damage from view.

“Welcome home Cas. You’re early,” he grimaced as he rose to greet Castiel properly.

Castiel laughed as he bounced Claire on his hip, “I am. There wasn’t a whole lot to do, so, I thought I want to go home. To be with you and Claire; my two favourite people,” Castiel beamed down at his daughter, bopping Claire’s nose as he turned to face Dean.

But slowly the sun faded from Castiel’s, just before he dashed forward his eyes focused squarely upon Dean’s chest.

“Dean, you’re bleeding,” he gasped reaching for Dean’s shirt with the unoccupied hand.

“What?” Dean looked down to see specks of blood staining his light blue blouse, “Fuck.”

“What’s wrong? Let me see,” the alpha put Claire down and reached out to begin unbuttoning his top.

Batting his hand away Dean moved back, “No Cas, it’s okay. It’s just a little bit chapping, no big deal.”

A scowl reached the alpha’s brows and he squinted at him before the beginning rumbles of what could in partial be an alpha command.

“Dean, let me see.”

“Ca-“

“Dean.”

Feeling the heat upon his neck and cheeks he began to unbutton his shirt once more, slowly moving to the side to the expose his sore nipples. The gentle touch of the summer breeze upon them caused Dean to grinned his teeth in pain.

Dean watched as Castiel’s face danced from horror to pity to action. He reached down and picked up Claire, “Follow me.”

With his head hanging Dean followed Castiel back to the house and covered his chest once more. As he returned he found Claire cooing at a straw doll on the floor of the parlour and Castiel banging doors in the kitchen.

“Cas?” he asked with now response, “Alpha?”

“Please sit. I’m just looking for the cream Mother left me for chapped hands a few years back. Where is it? AH got it,” Castiel jumped a little as he reached for the small tin jar tucked away on the top shelf.

Castiel returned to the kitchen table opened the jar and looked back at the stunned and scared omega standing awkwardly in the kitchen.

“I think we should do this with a little bit of privacy,” Castiel grabbed the jar and walked to his room, Dean followed closely behind him, unsure of what exactly Castiel was thinking.

He placed the jar on the side of the vanity by the door and moved to let Dean in before closing the door a little, leaving it ajar, giving a mirage of privacy. “What you need to do is rub this on the effected area and eventually the cracking and tenderness will disappear. It worked on my hands, I don’t see why it wouldn’t work for you too,” he smiled.

Nodding Dean stood awkwardly for a second and then began to remove his shirt slowly before Castiel in a surprised explanation dashed outside of the room to give him some real privacy.

“If you need anything just let me know I’ll be with Claire down the way.”

Once Dean removed his shirt completely he picked up the jar and looked at it, turning the tin in his hand a little before smelling it. He snorted at the odd smell and sighed as he he really had nothing to loose. He dipped his fingers into the cool jelly and carefully brought it to one of his bright red and slightly cracked nipple. Gently he placed it upon his skin and gasped before whimpering at the contact. Tears pricked his eyes as he pushed on as room filled with the rising scent of omega distress enough to seep under the door into the house.

“Dean? Are you okay?” came Castiel’s voice just beyond the door.

Whimpering once more Dean moaned in pain. 

In response, Castiel hesitantly peeked in immediately noticing the crying distressed omega hunched over himself in the middle of the room.

“Oh Dean, here let me help.”

“okay,” he whimpered back. His distress rose once more as he watched Castiel from the corners of his eyes take in the true flatness of Dean’s chest. Dean knew that while Castiel was not an omega, he would know what his flat chest meant. Dean no longer produced milk.

Slowly Dean leaned into Castiel’s neck and smelled his comforting alpha scent gasping in shock and pain as Castiel began to rub the cream gently on to his nipple.

He whimpered again once Castiel finished the one and moved to the other, causing Dean to hide his face further within the intoxicating scent.

“Shh, it’s okay omega, almost done.”

Castiel once again gently rubbed the cream upon his cracked skin and lightly ran his thumb over his perked nipple to make sure it covered all of the area.

“There we go. All done.”

Dean stepped back and sniffled at his ridiculousness as his eyes glanced around the room looking for his shirt.

“I think you should leave it off for now. Let the cream sink in and dry.”

Nodding again he awkwardly shifted as the pain subsided and the lingering scent of the alpha upon his nose caused his hole to clench a little causing a blush to move up Dean’s torso.

“Thank you,” he said as the heat within his skin rose further, smelling the odd combination of alpha distress, comfort and arising answering arousal.

Castiel stared at Dean, his eyes boring into the omega’s skin and the air became heavy. Dean wasn’t sure what exactly was happening but the moment was lost completely when from the parlour came the hungry cries of Claire. She was unsatisfied by their short feeding minutes before and had yet to receive the substituted goat’s milk.

Dean huffed as he moved to feed Claire again. Or at least tried. But his path was stopped.

“I think we should give you a chance to heal first before feeding again, don’t you?” Castiel’s gentle deep voice suggested.

Pausing to look down at his now sticky and shiny breast, still bright red with irritation, Dean nodded.

“Good. Now you rest hear while I go feed our girl,” and quickly Castiel turned not realizing what he had just said.

Dean’s eyes were wide as he stared after the man, _our._ He had said _our girl_. Dean stared after Castiel’s back as it disappeared, his appearance in the house making itself known as his deep voice wafted into the room while he comforted his daughter. Dean’s heart was warm and his soul jumped with joy for full minute. But as he turned with a joyful blush high on his cheeks, the mirror caught his attention over the vanity. As he looked upon his form, taking in the sharp angles of his male hips, the softness of his stomach and chest showing signs of his omega identity, his joy scattered. He shook he remaining essences of the joy from his head. It was only a slip of the tongue. Nothing more and he should stop thinking otherwise.

Glancing over to the blue bloused draped over the end of Castiel’s bed he could see the areas where the blood had stained the fabric. He picked it up to inspect further casting his eyes beyond it to settle upon the pillows at the top of the bed outlined by the window. Sighing to himself he remembered that morning after he’d told him about Zachariah. Castiel’s arms had been wrapped tight around his middle and his own nose had been tucked in to the center of the alpha’s chest. In that position and in the morning silence he had been able to hear the way Castiel’s heart had beat in time with pattering of rain upon the glass of the windows. For a moment it had felt like another life; a life shared with the man holding him close. But the illusion was shattered when Castiel had nuzzled his nose into his hair and had said his good morning just before freezing completely in realization. The split second had vanquished the warmth from the bed. Dean knew that he had over stepped and had retracted himself from Castiel’s arms and bolted to his own room. As he had dashed into the hall Castiel’s voice could be heard fading into the walls as he called out to him.

Closing his eyes he could still feel the shock on his face and the confusion on Castiel’s as he ran from the room. He had been so beautiful in his rumpled state. Comforting, but not what was appropriate. Dean had allowed himself to believe in the moment that his life was capable of gentle touches of morning-hazed love. He could love Claire, and he could care for Castiel, but he could never allow himself the kind of love his heart wanted.

Deciding that he needed to get the laundry done, he scrunched up his blouse and peeked around the door into the hallway that led to Claire’s and then his own room. With no alpha in sight he dashed into each room to pick up the laundry and left to go wash the clothe by the pump before taking them to the line. As per instructed he left his chest bare to allow the cream to sink in and heal him while also finding pleasure in the lack of starch fabric brushing against each nipple.

The afternoon faded and the sun began its decent. As he paused for a moment to see the sky turning a burnt orange and blush pink, Dean realized that he had failed to see either Milton throughout the rest of the day while he completed the laundry. The only time he knew they were around was when he heard Claire laughing at her father from the other side of the house. Dean had craned his head in order to see the man dancing wildly back and forth in front of what must had been Claire sitting on the ground.

Bending down he gathering the laundry at hand and almost fell forward as he was startled by Castiel’s voice. “Here let me help with that.”

Dean jumped, “Jesus Christ, wear a bell.”

“Name’s Castiel actually,” he smirked at him.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Dean hoisted up the clothing in his arms.

“Please let me help,” Castiel dashed forward to grab them causing Dean to gasp in pain as the material rubbed along his bare chest.

Relieving Dean’s arms completely of the laundry and placing it back on the sheet it had been on for clean keeping, Castiel returned to him. Dean looked down at his long dried nipples still inflamed from the abuse they’d received.

“I’ve got the laundry, you go inside and I’ll been in in just a minute.”

Ushering him inside Dean tried to protest, “Don’t be ridiculous Cas, I can do this.”

“I won’t have it now go. Claire misses you.”

Dean walked backwards for a pace watching Castiel pickup the laundry and turned around to go towards Claire. He missed her too.

Once inside Claire gurgled and reached out for him, “D- D.”

Smiling he stroked her face before lifting her into his arms, “Hi bug, did you miss me?”

Claire reached for his face and ran her small hands down his cheek before tucking her face into his neck. She lovingly ran her tiny hands along his clavicle and over the top part of his chest. Simply reminding her fingertips of Dean’s warmth.

She peeked her head around Dean’s shoulder as Castiel entered, “Da!”

“Hello beautiful. Did you miss Dean today? Yes you did. How about you come with us as I take care of him?” Castiel waved him back into his room where the jelly still sat on the vanity.

Dean placed Claire on the bed and allowed her to flop back into the pillows, giggling at the way they whooshed up around her.

“I can do this myself,” he grumbled.

“Humour me,” Castiel responded as he came forward with the cream already on his fingertips. “I’ll be as thorough and efficient as possible.”

Nodding at the realization he wasn’t about to persuade the alpha otherwise, and being honest with himself, he likely wouldn’t be able to stand the pain on his own, he walked closer to Castiel.

“If it is too much just rest your head against my shoulder like you did earlier,” he offered with reassurance.

The feeling of Castiel’s fingers upon his sensitive nipples still brought the same gasp from his lips and sparked unwanted arousal down to his hole. The pain sparked and competed for center stage, but the gentle touch was done with such care, his omega body was not sure what was an electric shock of pain and what was pure arousal.

Dean’s mouth hung open gasping for air as Castiel swirled his fingers over his areola and nipple, pushing up into the breast tissue to allow the cream to sink a little into the cracks. Looking down he watched as Castiel ran a single finger over the nipple and then transferred to the other nipple perked and ready for its own attention. The other one had received the most abuse as it ran out of milk before the first. Around the areola and on the breast tissue Dean could see tiny bruises from where she had bitten him.

Gently Castiel’s thumb lightly brushed the bright red, sore, erect nipple causing Dean’s knees to buckle and sink into Castiel’s chest. He felt Castiel turn his head towards Dean’s hair and he heard him scent him, while his arm held Dean up.

“Are you okay?” he grumbled above him, trying to act normal while the both of them knew that their aroused scents were dancing between them.

“yes,” he gasped.

Castiel continued to rub the nipple, very gently, covering the enter area in cream. Neither of them moved. The only thing that changed was the rising scent of arousal and the soft growling purr that rumbled in Castiel’s chest.

Gasping for air, Dean scrunched his eyes as he felt his hole leak into his pants and very slowly found its way down the inside of his thigh. Castiel ran his hands along his sides, smearing the remaining of the cream into his skin and pushed his hips back just a little to give them space. Castiel’s pupils were blown and his breathing was uneven. Dean could only whimper as he watched Castiel’s eyes dart from Dean’s eyes, to his mouth down further to pause at his neck and looking down further to take in Dean’s glistening nipples, still pointing directly at him.

“Cas,” he moaned softly.

Castiel took a small step towards him only to abruptly stop as Claire made a loud crash as she threw a pillow off the side of the bed hitting a lamp and making it crash to the floor. In the cracking of sound the moment was lost and Dean blushed deeply he dashed out to gather the broom the clean up the broken glass and Castiel reach for Claire.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter should follow this one within a day. <3 Enjoy

After that day, Castiel was different. He was skittish, hesitant and always busy. Dean wasn’t sure what he had done wrong. However, each night for a week he would quietly whisper Dean’s name and walk into his bedroom, where Dean would patiently tuck his head into the crook of Castiel’s neck while he rubbed the cream on to his healing nipples.

What struck Dean as strange was that Castiel’s scent had changed a little. No longer was it tinged with a sour note, but rather it was more enticing and stayed with him long into the night. The moments were gentle, patient, special and uniquely their own.

But soon they would end and Dean would have to sit down with the suddenly tentative and attentive alpha to talk about what his role was in the Milton family. His main role very clearly had ended. He no longer produced milk to feed Claire, but if the offer still stood, he would like to help in some other way.

As Dean sat on the corner his small bed watching the crescent moon in the clear starlit sky, he thought about what he could offer Castiel in return for his stay. He could simply be a nanny for Claire, as that was what the original advertisement also requested. He could even offer to be a maid, cleaning and cooking; Castiel seemed to like his food enough. Or he could be of some help at the Hotel and General Store in town; he knew that he was strong and was able to lift boxes with supplies and he was pleasant with others. Maybe, he smiled a little to himself, he could tend to the Milton family horses or the Hotel bar. Laughing a little he thought about how great it would be if Castiel and Mrs. Milton allowed him to stay and help take care of Claire as she grew while also providing his own expertise with the horses and the family business. Sighing to himself wistfully he gazed in the direction of the Miltons’ rooms. He’d even offer himself - if Castiel wanted that too or instead.

Slapping the bed he slumped himself down on the mattress in triumph reaching an answer. In order to stay with Claire and Castiel he would offer any and all of his skills. Turning on his side to looked back at the moon over head and made a wish upon the man in the moon, just as he and Sammy had done as children.

He asked him to grant him more time, at least until Claire was older. He wanted, so desperately to be a part of the family he’d grown to love over the past several months. Even if it meant that Castiel just thought of him as a good acquaintance. But for some reason, the alpha no longer wanted to be around him and even acquaintance needed to have some form of connection and contact. 

His eyes slowly closed as his day came to a close.

 ________

 

With a sharp snap of his eyes he rose with sun shining brightly in his face. From the other side of the wall he could hear the tiny mumblings of Claire in her basket nattering to herself. With a giant yawn and stretch he rose from the bed and glanced outside to watch as the sun placed a morning glow upon the land before going to get dressed and begin his day. The day was already warm and with that warning in mind he donned his light linen pants that never really fit around his waist, an undershirt and then snapped some suspenders in place to keep the pants up.

Once he opened the door he knew that Claire had heard the creak of his floorboards and was alerted to his soon arrival. With that alert she began to call to him.

“D. D?”

“Coming bug. Coming,” Dean quietly replied and opened the door to see Claire sitting up in bed saying his name again and again in excitement. Her volume was a little louder than he’d hope with her sleeping father just next door.

“Hi honey. Shh quiet now. Daddy is still sleeping.”

Picking her up he bounced her on his hip as she once again began to paw at his chest, still desiring his milk more than what she’d been forced to eat for the past two weeks.

“No no, bug. Not anymore. We’re going to have some goat milk. Oh come now don’t pout. I’ll even give you some cherries that Daddy bought from Uncle Gabriel. How does that sound?” he cooed at her trying to win her favour back as they walked into the kitchen.

He placed her down on a small blanket just off to the side away from the oven, but within view, while he got the milk placed in some boiling water and grabbed some cherries to chop up and de-pit. Once all of it was ready he placed them on the ground, the bottle cooled, and let her pick at them and make a mess. They were going to have a bath later anyways. Turning his attention back to the pan hot and ready for Castiel’s morning toast and egg, he placed everything in the pan. Today he felt like doing something special for the man, a bird in a basket. His mom used to make them for Sammy and him when the mornings promised a sunny day such as this, and if he was being honest, he wanted to treat the alpha just a little. Even if it was literally just eggs, butter and toast. But sometimes simple was the best way to start a morning; Simple with a dash of affection. Smiling at his simple fortune he glanced up at the shelf and saw the pepper, deciding to add a little bit of spice too.

He had no idea why he was feeling warm and bubbly inside, but he thought maybe he’d just had a change of heart. There was nothing that said he couldn’t show the alpha how much he cared without anything in return. He expected nothing, but keeping it in and seeing the distance was making him miserable and in turn it had made Claire miserable too. So no, today, he would let the sun be his guidance.

With their breakfasts ready, Dean settled in and waited for Castiel with some bread and cherries with a glass of goat’s milk. As he waited the time crawled by.

Enough time passed that he started to worry. No sound could be heard from the room; no bumps or throat clearing as usual with the day’s beginning. Nothing. Frowning he placed his hand over the meal to find it cold and then frowned as he looked towards the door, peeking just behind the hallway wall. Something wasn’t right.

With one last glance down to Claire he saw that she was happily content trying to feed her small straw doll cherries, smudging bright pink residue onto the doll’s face. Knowing that Claire was preoccupied and safe, he moved towards the alpha’s door, and then knocked gently upon it.

“Cas? Are you up?” he knocked again with no answer.

Frowning once more he tried again. And then again. And again.

Concern was bright within his chest and knotted his heart, “Castiel?”

From the other side of the door came a very quiet groan and the rough deep voice of the man in question, “I’m sick Dean. Don’t worry, I'll just stay here today.”

Worry spiked in his chest as he rattled the door, “Cas open up.”

“No,” came a groan just before Dean heard the sound of a gasp reach through the door.

“Castiel. Open the door,”

“Go away Dean.”

His words shot straight though him. It was a command whispered through the door. It was quiet, but forced. Shaking his dark worries away he tried once more, “No Alpha Open the door.”

 No answer followed his statement thus prompting him to get down on all fours and look under the door hoping to see the alpha from between the cracks. However, all he saw were blankets stuffed up against the door, blocking his view.

From his side he felt Claire crawl over to see what Dean was doing, crouching down to look under and then look back at him. Dean raised his eyebrows and made a face of uncertainty.

“You’re Dad is being very silly,” he said.

Claire very gently rose and wobbled while placing her weight on her hands; crawling up the door.

“Da?”

“No sweetheart, not today. Today Dean is going to take good care of you like always and I’ll stay-“ his words were cut off with a pained groaned.

“Castiel? Castiel! Open the fucking door!” Dean banged on the door as he continued to hear the gasped whimpers of pain behind the door.

“Call my mother. Go into town with her and Claire.” Castiel quietly begged.

Rattling the door once more Dean tried to grant more sense into the man, “Don’t be ridiculous Castiel. Open. The. Door.”

“Dean, just do it,” he growled from the door causing Dean to back up and glance towards the cylinder on the wall.

Swiftly he picked Claire up, now crying at the raised aggressive worry, and called Naomi.

“Operator? – Yes Hello I’d like a Naomi Milton. Line 14- Thank you.” Dean waited for the line to connect, but all he heard was silence. With a click the operator came back on the line at the same time that Mrs. Milton herself marched through the door, pass Dean and to her son’s door.

“Sorry sir, she’s is not hom-“

“That’s okay she just walked in. Thank you.” Dean hung up the phone and chased after Naomi with Claire sniffling in his shirt. “Mrs. Milton what? How?”

With a quick quirk of a smile she looked over at the two of them and cooed briefly at her granddaughter before responding, “That boy hasn’t been 45 minutes earlier than needed since the day he was born. Unlike the other two, Gabriel was always late – not even fashionably just late- and Michael has always been exactly on time. Since birth with those three. Now let me see if he’ll let me see him.”

With that Naomi turned to the door once more and knocked gently upon the door, while resting the other on the handle, “Castiel? It’s me. Open up.”

With the shuffling of blankets and the scrapping of Castiel’s feet upon the floor, Dean heard the soft click of the lock releasing beneath Naomi’s hand. With that Naomi slowly opened the door and whispered her son’s name.

“Castiel?” something behind the door made her stop in her tracks before she closed the door quickly and looked back in panic at Dean. “You two should wait outside.”

Shocked that both Miltons had now told him to leave he just stared at her, “What?”

“Dean, I’m serious outside with the both of you,” she shuffled them away.

Dean paused within the threshold of the open front door to watch Naomi go into the room, leaving the door ajar. Dean could hear the unintelligible quiet mumblings of the two, speaking to each other in low tones while Naomi stood guard of the door.

Once more the thought passed his mind that something was defiantly not right. Yet it wasn’t until he watched from his place as Naomi went down the hall to the kitchen did Dean smell it.

The smell ran down the hallway and painted his lungs with the most intoxicating smell of fresh honey, sweet and vexing, mixed with the power and lightning of an on coming storm. Dean’s bones shook within his skin, and his skin was set a fire. He felt like his soul had suddenly burst into flames. His knees began to buckle and slowly we wobbled over to the chair set by the door outside and placed Claire on the floor, while he gasped for breath from between his knees. As he placed his head down, hoping that the dizziness of the scent would disappear, he could smell a different scent mingling with the air around him. He smelled leather, cinnamon and apples. With a gasp he swung his head up quickly and darted his eyes around looking for an answer and a possible exit from his confusion.

He had gone into heat. Again.

“No, no no nononono.” He panicked as he got up and stumbled down the steps. This couldn’t be happening he thought. He just finished a heat, and even that one was before his time and out of place. But now, with a single sniff of Castiel’s heightened scent, his body had responded.

From the house came the sudden growl of Castiel, “Omega.”

His breath hitched with uncertainty, he had no idea what to do next. He wanted the man, badly. He wanted him in and out of heat. But it wasn’t just his touch, but also his heart.

Naomi came rushing out of the house to find him crouched over himself clutching to the banister of the stairs while his legs tried to fall beneath him once more. From the top of the stairs she could smell him. With one look at her face, he knew she knew what was happening.

“Dean, sweetheart. There is no beating around the bush here we both know that Castiel is in Rut which has triggered an early heat. Castiel has asked me to take you into town with Claire. So, you are going to come with me and sit in the carriage, while I go in and grab you some of your heat aid items your mother sent. Okay? Grab Claire.”

No it wasn’t okay. Dean wanted to be with the alpha and besides they couldn’t just abandon him to work through the rut by himself. No. He was going to help him through it.

Dean picked up Claire and walked up the stairs to look at Naomi, “Ma’am. We can’t leave him here by himself.”

“No. I’ll send his brother out here to check in with him in a few hours,” Naomi reached for Claire.

Cringing at the image of Castiel screaming in the middle of nowhere as his body tried to rip itself apart with its instincts he shook his head, “I can’t just leave him here Naomi. Please.”

Squinting up at him, the same gesture that both Castiel and Claire have used upon him before, she took him in; All of him.

“Okay. But you have to know what you’re getting yourself into Dear. Castiel – Castiel doesn’t want it to be this way. He is going to be – difficult in his lucid moments and you need to remember that he is not himself and that while I love you for taking care of him, he will only see force.”

Dean’s eyes widened at the realization that Castiel might not want him. Which, he thought, perhaps meant that this wasn’t going to be a problem. The two of them could remain civil in front of each other.

“Stop that Dean Winchester. I meant only that that boy cares a great deal for you and he wants only good things to come your way. Not – not this.”

Nodding solemnly Dean knew what he was agreeing to, “I understand Naomi. But I have to do this. I have to be here. If he needs me for anything, I will provide it not because it is my duty but because – because it’s Cas.”

Chewing on her lips to keep her tears back and looking upon Dean’s sincere face, Naomi nodded and patted him on the cheek, “Okay. If you need anything- anything at all- even restraints. You call. I mean it Winchester. You call me.”

“Yes, Mrs. Milton,” he nodded.

With one more pat to the cheek she walked down the steps with Claire, a bag of baby things and made her way back into town. Dean watched them move into the distance for a while before gulping down clean air and turning around to enter the house once more.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ^_^ <3

The creak of the old farmhouse floors groaned in response to his added weight and the bones of the house delivered the rising scent of Alpha arousal. It called him down its hallway to the first door, closed once more. With a turn of the handle Dean stopped to momentarily stare at his hand upon the door, gathered his strength and finally entered the room. The room immediately engulfed him with the alpha’s scent causing his skin to flush deeply and tighten while sweat rose to make his shirt stick to his skin, the white material becoming faintly translucent.

The alpha sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands while pulling on his hair. As Dean walked around the bed to come face-to-face with him, he saw the man’s mouth gasping for air as he refused to breath through his nose smelling the air around him. What struck Dean however, was not just his discomfort, but rather the track of tears that had formed on his face. The alpha had been crying in confusion and pain because of the oncoming rut.

Gently Dean reached out to take both of Castiel’s hands within his own and slowly asked the man to release his hair. Castiel immediately startled and bolted up right to look at Dean in front of him.

“Dean, why? You shouldn’t be here. This shouldn’t be hap-“ Castiel panicked by trying to move back on the bed, but fell short as his body contorted in pain.

Watching the man contort in pain filled him with sadness, cemented his resolve and made his body move on to the bed, pull the alpha into his chest and stroke Castiel’s hair in comfort, moving strands away form his forehead as his ridged muscles slowly started to relax.

“Cas, I’m going to help you. No- listen- I know what you’re thinking, but I am doing this of my own free will.”

Groaning Castiel buried his face into Dean’s shoulder, “I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered as his nose began to nuzzle at Dean’s chest.

“You won’t alpha. I promise.”

Slowly Castiel’s arms wrapped themselves around his waist as he lifted his head to scent Dean’s neck and sighed deeply in content at the omega heat scent beneath his nose. Castiel’s hips, involuntarily, bucked up softly into Dean’s side, causing Cas to moan in relief, “Omega.”

“Yes, Alpha.” Dean stroked his face and slowly raised Castiel’s face with his hand to look at him. “It’s okay.”

Staring for a moment at each other, Dean watched as Castiel’s eyes danced over his face before settling upon his lips and raised slightly to kiss him. Their lips met briefly and hesitantly before the warmth and dry softness that was for a second placed upon Dean’s lips were removed. Castiel stared down at him, watching Dean’s face to gage his reaction, but all Dean could do was smile at him and pull him down. Once their lips met again Castiel took over.

His hips bucked up strongly into Dean’s own, as he shifted to get on top of him. He bit Dean’s lip sending a bolt of lightening straight down his spine to cause his hole to fill with slick. His ass tightened as his hole rhythmically fluttered in its search for something to fill it. His cock was hard between them, companioned with Castiel’s large alpha cock rubbing back and forth in ecstasy and momentary relief while their clothing created a barrier between them. Dean reached down and held on to the alpha’s hips as they bucked into him, causing duo groans to fill the space.

“Alpha,” he moaned.

Pausing, Castiel kissed him on his lips, then his checks and down his neck before coming to pause at Dean’s chest rising in response to his excitement. The material of his shirt was plastered to his skin from the sweat induced heat, Castiel stopped to look at his chest noticing Dean’s nipples erect and pointing up at him through the shirt. Groaning he got off Dean, starting a momentary panic to set into Dean’s mind.

Perhaps Cas couldn’t stand his scent. Maybe it was off putting. Maybe he was thinking of his wife. Dean had no idea, but it was stopped immediately as Castiel stood up and reached for him, pulling him up against his chest into a standing position.

Castiel looked at him and took his hands to place them upon Castiel’s waist before pushing up, coaching Dean to take the lead a little. Dean followed the path of Castiel’s tan skin, allowing his thumbs to brush the alpha’s nipples enticing a growl from him, and then finally pulled the shirt over his head. He was tanned, lean and muscled. He was not what he’d expected. He had thought the alpha was an office body, a little flabby in areas but thin from family traits, but he had forgotten that the man was first and foremost a farmer.

Castiel reached for his own pants and pulled them down, revealing his alpha cock standing proud and tenting in his white underwear. Slowly Dean reached forward looking up at him for permission, “Can- can I touch you?”

With the rising spike of alpha arousal once more sending pained shudders down Castiel’s body, all he could do was nod his permission.

Dean’s palm cupped the head of his cock, large and hard beneath his skin, before coming closer to wrap his hand around the in-clothed member. Slowly he moved his hand up and down the shaft as he bit his lip and groaned at the rising scent coming from the man, “Alpha.”

With the last groan of his desire for the man Dean reached forward and lowered Castiel’s underwear down his powerful thighs and let them pool down on the floor. Dean looked at the alpha standing before him draped in sunbeams standing strong, powerful and sinfully beautiful. His cock was large and frightening. The head filled his own palm completely and made Dean lick his lip when he saw the small drop of pre-come upon its tip. The shaft just fit within his hand, while the length could have easily lain within his own forearm halfway to his elbow. He was large and in pain.

His attention, so transfixed upon his deep desired urges, were interrupted as Castiel reached forward and tipped his chin up to look at him. “Dean?”

“Cas,” he whimpered in response feeling his own heat spike and begin to cramp his stomach in heightened arousal.

Castiel retracted his hand, and began to step away form him before Dean rushed towards him and grabbed his face once more, calming his nerves of misunderstanding.

“God damn it Alpha I want you. Can’t you smell that?” Dean kissed him roughly and then dragged his nose back to his neck.

“Dean,” Castiel groaned as his hands tugged at the suspenders dragging him close to his body.

Dean leaned back and groaned as Castiel’s cock bumped his own. Slowly Dean removed his suspenders and whipped his shirt over his head before unbuttoning his pants. Castiel batted his hands away and unfastened them while dragging them down slowly, sinking to his knees in front of Dean. Once he had placed the clothing on the floor and coached Dean to step out of them, he groaned once more nestling his face against Dean’s thigh.

“Omega,” he moaned moving his eyes up Dean’s body.

Dean’s hole in response sent a gush of slick once more causing the slick to trickle down his thighs and over Castiel’s hands holding him from his kneeling position on the floor.

The smell caused Castiel to hold him tight and flip him to the side so that Dean fell on to his stomach as he hit the mattress, “Cas?”

The sudden change in position caused Dean to panic a little. He didn’t like the position and he needed to see the alpha, “Castiel? - Alpha?”

Castiel stopped and stepped away smelling the quick spike of panic upon Dean’s skin, “I’m sorry. I just- I don’t know what. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Dean –“

Flipping around he reached for Castiel, “Easy alpha, easy Cas. I just – I just need to see you.” Dean dragged him forward and brought his hands up to his chest, “it’s okay.”

Looking down at him hesitantly once more Castiel’s hands reached out for his nipples, perked up for his attention. His thumbs stroked over each bud causing Dean to gasp with delight encouraging Castiel to run his thumbs over them once more making Dean moan his name and push his chest into him. While Dean’s nipples were still a little tender from abuse, the irritation had faded and the split skin was nowhere to be seen. Castiel rubbed each nipple in a circular motion before pushing Dean’s body back onto the mattress. Without fail Castiel leaned over him and placed his mouth over a nipple and sucked lightly before growling at him and biting the sensitive bud between his teeth in excitement from the answering omega scent.

“Ah! -Alpha,” he warned as the attention, now accompanied by Castiel pinching and rolling of the unattended one, was sending Dean fully into his first orgasm. “Alpha I’m – I’m coming. Oh God.”

Dean’s eyes fluttered closed as his body fully arched off the bed in elation with just Castiel’s mouth upon his chest. A gush of slick leaked on to the bed, while a puddle of omega come rubbed against the alpha’s bare chest making the alpha groan into Dean’s chest. Castiel shifted to look down at Dean, watching as Dean’s flushed cheeks accompanied his gasping chest rising in the aftermath of pure pleasure. Dean watched the way Castiel’s eyes took in his mess upon his bed, and realized that Castiel was no longer completely with him.

His body was present, but with the rise of omega slick, strong with fertility and answered heat, his alpha instincts had taken over completely. Dean wasn’t completely certain, upon looking into the glaze that clouded Castiel’s eyes that he would remember anything that transpired in his rut. He may remember pieces, but certainly not all.

Limp with fatigue Dean allowed Cas to lift his legs up and bend them at the knee placing them on the mattress before raising them up further to bend them towards Dean’s chest, keeping them in place with his forearm, while Dean was fully exposed at the edge of the bed. Gasping once more and still riding the high of his orgasm, Dean could only wait for Castiel’s next touch. The touch was gentle upon his rim, a blessing he should have expected from Castiel regardless of his state. Castiel through and through was gentle and caring; even his Alpha instincts to breed couldn’t damper that truth.

Moaning loudly, Dean closed his eyes as he let his mouth drop searching for air at the feeling of Castiel’s first finger and then immediately a second entered his hole. He was incredibly wet, a sensation he could feel beneath him, and due to his heat he was loose and easy to open. Biting his lip he watched as Castiel’s eyes focused down upon his fingers moving in and out of the omega’s body. With a fourth finger stretching him and Dean shivering beneath him at the shy touch to his internal bundle of nerves, Castiel quickly took his fingers out and placed the head of his alpha cock against his hole.

Dean’s heat had risen so completely in the moments of cautious appreciative internal touches that his eyes were fluttering closed once more and he was unable to focus his vision upon anything other than the stars dancing hesitantly at the edges of his vision.

“Omega,” Castiel groaned above him as his cock began to push into Dean.

The small pressure upon his hole was released as the large head of the alpha’s cock pushed its way into Dean. Dean gasped and reached his hand out to hold onto Castiel. His body wanted to moan his appreciations and shout to the world outside that the alpha before him was taking him and only him. But his vocal cords were lost to the pleasure.

Once Castiel completely bottomed out into Dean, his width stretching him and his length bumping far into him, he stopped. Dean’s nails dug into Castiel’s arm and he began to squirm before he felt Castiel lean further over top of him and scent his neck.

“My omega,” Castiel released one final groan before moving his hips back slowly and completely before snapping forward.

“Ah,” Dean’s vocal cords were found in the movements.

“Mine,” Castiel once more slowly moved his hips back and snapped forward quickly.

The pace continued until Dean began to claw at his arms and reach for his shoulders, “Alpha, please, please more. More. Please,” he whimpered

In response, Dean caught the flash of heightened arousal reach Castiel’s eyes, before stopping to shift Dean’s legs over his shoulders, his knees hooking over them, and begin to move faster.

The bed creaked as Castiel began to speed up, the frame scratching the wood floor and moving the headboard from the window.

“Yes, yes. Oh fuck,” Dean moaned as the alpha began to hammer quickly into him.

He could hear the alpha gasping and growling between them as he burrowed his eyes into Dean’s own, watching each shift of his face, for better or worse, and chasing the better with each thrust.

“I’- I’m Oh God Castiel I’m-“ Dean released a high-pitched gasp into the air as his second orgasm skyrocketed through him. His vision blanked and his limbs went fully ridged before collapsing to their sides.

Castiel released his knees and allowed Dean’s legs to spread out beneath him in release, while he leaned into scent the omega before him still keeping his pace. Dean in his haze heard him groan into his skin, “Mine,” before his knot formed and slammed into Dean’s body.

The stretch caused him to gasp in pleasure as the extra stretch rubbed perfectly against his prostate, milking a dry orgasm from his cock. He moaned in gentle pleasure as Castiel’s come damped his heat and allowed Castiel to finally relax into Dean while his hole milked the knot in his body.

Dean let Castiel fall completely into his body, his weight only a comfort rather than a hindrance. Shifting his upper body a little out from the heat radiating from Castiel, he looked to the side of Cas’s face wondering if given the release he had cleared enough to understand what had happened. But as he turned he saw Castiel’s face snuggly tucked into Dean’s neck running his nose absently along Dean’s skin, while fully asleep.

“Really?” he asked him in disbelief, remembering that the man had possibly not slept all night in his pain.

Reaching up he brushed a sweaty strand of hair away from his face and traced his cheekbones running a finger over his plush lips. He was pure beauty and his. His smell while still intoxicating had now reached a gentle caress upon Dean’s own warm needs of his omega heat. Dean ran his hand absently up and down the alpha’s spine and waited for either the man to wake up or his knot to go down.

As he bathed in the comforting scent of their gentle ecstasy and combined scents, the smell of fresh apple pie with the smell of wet grass just after a rainstorm, he thought about what this all cold mean for them going forward. He had already accepted that he wanted Castiel, but that he could never have him. Naomi knew what was currently transpiring and therefore surely Castiel would find out regardless of whether he remembered pieces or not. And then he had to ask himself, was he prepared to live through unrequited lo- something for Castiel, when the Alpha would never return it. Could he survive that kind of desire with this sort of intimacy?

What scared him the most was that his first real experience of gentle, caring, and fucking hot sex, would only exist in the haze of instinctual callings and never in reality. The thought of only being able to experience this all again in Castiel’s hazed mind and never through clarity made him want to cry. Closing his eyes to the high-noon sun shinning through the bedroom window, Dean celebrated the pure pleasure that had followed and lovingly mourned his inability to feel loved reality. Looking down at the alpha peacefully sleeping beneath him, he kissed his forehead and whispered to him, “My alpha.”

Castiel shifted as his knot faded and his cock slipped from Dean’s hole. The feeling brought a tickling sensation through his spine and an uncomfortable feeling of slick and come leaked from his slightly stretched hole. He could feel the stretch that had been and he both squirmed and relished the feeling. Shifting from the alpha’s sleeping body carefully, he removed himself and rose to walk towards the kitchen to get some water allowing himself a moment of peace before both their heat and rut started again.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a short one. :) And yes I've been reading all the comments I hear you! <3

His shoulders were heavy with exhaustion and his skin was still tingling with heat. The house once full of morning light was now set in a soft heated glow from the afternoon sun. In front of him was the Milton’s land, stretching in its bareness, while the Joshua tree winked at him of past promises. The water in his hand was cool from the cellar below, quenching the heat that had parched his tongue and clearing his mind just enough to be aware. As he stood at the counter overlooking the land he thought about his morning.

If you had proposed to him just twenty-four hours ago, that he would be standing naked in the kitchen as his hole, red and used dripped Alpha come and Omega slick down his thighs pooling at his feet, he’d have told you that you’d gone crazy. But still, that was the truth.

Closing his eyes briefly, relishing in the memories, he though about the way that Castiel’s fingers had felt upon his thighs, the way his lips had firmly kissed his breath away and the way he’d felt complete as Castiel took all of his fears and shame, tossing them out the widow while lighting him up with euphoria. Licking his lips he could taste the sweet honey of Castiel upon them and he could still smell the summer storm upon his own cinnamon scented skin. He focused his memory on the moments between their first and second kiss, the way that Castiel had looked at him, and the way he had smiled down at him in response to Dean’s accepting delight of the simple touch. He could kiss those lips for the rest of his life, and be happy. The thought brought safety and warmth to his heart, making it expand within his chest and calm any nerves he had.

He could see it in his mind the way the house would feel and sound, if Castiel and Dean were more than what they are. If they were – mates. Smiling wistfully he watched his mind turn the idea over in his head like a moving picture. Castiel kissing his cheek every morning as Claire dashed out of the house being chased by another little girl with the same blonde locks and blue eyes, but with freckles dusting her nose. He could see a little boy waddling after them screeching with laugher as his sisters dashed ahead, his own hair dark, but also having the girl’s same dusting of freckles paired with recognizable bright green eyes. Laughing at impossible dreams Dean let himself even look down at his flat stomach, the signs of stretch marks scarring his skin like tiger strips. But in his dream, he could see himself heavy with child once more, his chest full and awaiting their arrival.

Absently, Dean ran his hand over his stomach and stroked his skin, “Such a fool,” he quietly chastised himself. Yet, the image of a family, his family, safe, happy and healthy before his mind made him sway with joy upon his feet. To a passer by Dean’s swaying in front of the window might seem like dancing.

Suddenly, a sharp pain scrapped at his insides and pulled his spine tight as his body began to sweat heavily once more. Groaning he clawed at the counter letting his body bow in pain as his heat spiked violently once more. Grinding his teeth he groaned in pain and began to pant in search of air. The last time he had felt like this, with his hole sopping wet, stretched from use and his skin stretched tight and fire to the touch was when Naomi had found him that morning after trying to handle the early set heat the last time. He had crumbled into himself then, just as he had now.

In his discomfort of intense aggrieved arousal he failed to hear the creaking of floorboards and the rising of a rainstorm within the compounds of the kitchen. The only thing that told his fogged brain that the alpha was in the room was Castiel’s hands on his hips, stroking his thumb upon Dean’s skin and the pressure of his large alpha cock pressing into the offered omega calling out to him.

As he pressed into Dean slowly spreading his cheeks to watch the way Dean was being claimed, Dean could hear him growl into the air, “Mine.”

“Yes,” he gasped, just seconds before the alpha snapped his cock fully into Dean and began to pound into him rapidly.

The movements so jarred and weighted upon one single instinct between them, Dean failed to care as his head started knocking into the cupboard under the counter. The sound of closing doors on loose hinges could be heard slamming back and forth with the alpha’s hips slamming into Dean. However, regardless of the fevered animalistic search to be one with each other, Castiel was still Castiel.

The alpha’s body slowed down and caused Den to panic in his heat, “No, no alpha please don’t leave m-“

Castiel reached for his torso, wrapped his arms around his chest and pulled Dean up against his own; Dean’s back snug against Castiel’s chest. Dean’s panic stilled provoking him to hum as Castiel’s nose ran up over his shoulder, scenting him, and then nipped at his shoulder where a mating bite would be.

“Mine,” he grumbled.

“Yours,” Dean replied with a sigh allowing his breathing to hitch once more as Castiel kissed his shoulder and sucked leaving a bruise for days to follow.

The alpha placed his hand fully upon Dean’s chest, his palm placed tightly against Dean’s heart, pushing him back into his chest to allow each of them to feel the rapped pace of their hearts.

“My omega” Castiel whispered into his skin as he licked a strip up his neck and nipped at his ear lobe, whispering into his ear once more, “My mate.”

Dean felt himself skyrocket over the edge as his omega instinct found its answer. He came as Castiel’s voice in the haze of rut and combined scent of heat decided that Dean was his truth.

Dean’s come splashed onto the edge of the counter and trickled onto the cabinets, yet the tightness and fluttering of his omega hole caused Castiel’s alpha drives to remember their place and force him to begin rapidly chase its own ecstasy.

Dean keened in the aftermath, his rim sensitive with heightened arousal, but ready for more. All Dean could do was hold onto the edge of the counter and look out the window as Castiel scrapped his nails down his chest, nails lightly catching his nipples, before finding home once more upon his hips. Once they’d found a base to hold onto he let his own hips follow their calling, hammering rapidly into the omega before him once more.

Standing on the tips of his toes Dean’s voice pitched out of him on hitched sounds with each inwards thrust. He bounced on the alphas cock up and down allowing gravity and the force of Castiel’s hips to set the pace. If he glanced down he could see his soft cock, trying to make a valiant effort to rise, still slapping back and forth with the movement of the alpha behind him. Biting his lip, in search of stopping his sounds, he began to squirm wanting more and desiring the alpha’s knot. But all he could feel was the slight bumping of the swelling knot against his rim.

Unhappy with their position, the alpha growled at their similar heights, which was making it difficult for the alpha to place his knot within the omega.

Gasping at the feeling of Castiel stepping away, the sound of wet suction filling the kitchen, Castiel removed him from his cock, thus making Dean loose his support. He slumped into the counter trying to keep his own knees locked as the weight of his previous orgasm and spiked heat made him unbalanced. Castiel ran his hands down Dean’s flank massaging the globes of his ass just as he reached for Dean’s hips and swung him around to face him, he danced Dean in a circle to come to the kitchen table where he pushed Dean back onto it to lay him out on display. Dean was too tired to object and all his heat desired was the alpha’s knot.

“Cas,” he beckoned to Castiel, his arms reaching for the alpha, only to transfer immediately to the edge of the table above his head as an anchor. For the first time since the alpha claimed him in the kitchen, Dean looked into his blue eyes, and once more a slight pained reality scratched at his heart as he saw that Castiel was completely and utterly lost to his rut. This, Castiel was not going to remember.

His mind was halted in its sidestepped trajectory when Castiel lifted up his legs and spread them wide opening Dean completely and tugging on his body in order to pull Dean forward to the edge of the table. Dean watched as Castiel, lost to instincts, growled down at him and aimed the head of his cock perfectly before pushing fully back inside of Dean. Moaning obscenely Dean’s body arched off the kitchen table as he forced his hands to hold on tight to the table in anticipation for what he knew was about to happen.

With a jolt of movement Castiel’s muscles tightened before Dean’s eyes and forced the power behind each thrust inside of him. Each movement in their position rubbed deliciously against Dean’s inner walls and punched lewd sounds out of his chest. Dean’s eyes focused upon the movement of the man above him, gasping in hypersensitivity and omega heat, his words and sounds filling the air around them. He was unintelligible in his ecstasy yet with the widening shift of Dean’s legs and Castiel angling his hips just right he began to yell as Castiel hit his prostate with each thrust.

The constriction upon the alpha’s cock urged him on further prompting him to lean further into the omega and growl fully down at him, “MINE.” Castiel leaned down to bite his shoulder, just shy of a full claim, as he dragged his teeth down Dean’s skin and placed his mouth possessively over omega’s erect nipple sucking hard.

Dean tightened firmly around the alpha as he slammed his knot once more into Dean’s body and shot his come into Dean, accompanying Dean’s own squirt of omega slick.

The omega felt like he was floating between his dreamed state of the impossible tomorrow and his sexualized reality. His eyes couldn’t focus upon anything and his heat could be felt seeping away from his pours. His hole clenched down on the alpha’s knot milking yet another shuttering shot of come within his body. He felt himself being dragged up, his body slumped forward to hold on to the alpha while he shifted them both to sit down in one of the chairs. As they sat down, Castiel’s knot rubbed deliciously against Dean’s prostate making his neglected cock finally release as well. The position allowed some of the omega’s slick and alpha’s come to leak out around the edges of the alpha’s knot just a little. He could smell the scent of content and smiled dopily into Castiel’s neck, scenting him as the mixing of them filled their bodies.

Dean’s hand found strength to run his fingers gently through the nap of the alpha’s hair, finding comfort in its silkiness.

“Alpha,” he whispered, feeling the sun warming his arm through the window.

Castiel ran his nose up his neck, nuzzling him and smiling gently he kissed the omega’s skin gently and held him close as he released once more into him.

The moments as they waited felt like time had stopped and slowly Dean could feel Castiel return to his mind a little, just before the rut or sleep would bring him back under.

“Cas?” he asked, his own exhaustion setting in within the comforted pause.

“Mmm,” Castiel hummed back in response, kissing his shoulder and falling asleep in the comfort of the omega’s scent, swirling with the scent of both of them, “My omega. My Amelia.”

Dean froze. Completely and truly as a splash of cold lightening shot straight down his spine. He felt like vomiting and screaming as the light feeling from moments ago crumbled around him. His breathing hitched as the alpha continued to nuzzle at his skin and fall asleep within his arms. As he stared out the window, the bright sunlit ground became unfocused and darkened. 

Scrunching his eyes closed, he cried softly to himself so not to wake up Castiel, who was still holding him close to his body. Every single piece of their bodies were touching, but Dean felt like beyond all of the physical touch they couldn’t be farther apart within their hearts.

Finding his only comfort still in the alpha’s scent mixed with his own, he nuzzled his nose against the alpha’s neck, letting his tears silently fall. Shuddering for breath he quietly held himself close for just moment more and whispered into Castiel’s skin, “I’m such a fool.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. As mentioned before I really wanted to finish Blue Skies before completing this HOWEVER, you are all very persistent and so I've not been able to keep myself from at least appeasing you a little. Thank you for all of the kind words and support! Enjoy! <3

As the days of their biological passions fed into each other, it almost surprised Dean to realize one afternoon that Castiel’s rut had passed. He could smell the absence of it amongst the air surrounding them in bed. His own heat had passed sometime in the night. Which meant that he had a fraction of time where he couldn’t hide his pain behind hazed desire found in his heats. He was completely and utterly aware of everything, and while he couldn’t remember a lot he remembered the moment that his dreams had crashed into the wood flooring of the kitchen, in what he thought must have been two days ago.

Numbly he stared at the wood paneled wall in front of him, and traced the lines of the wood’s tear streaked pattern, all the while trying to forget the brutal emotional pain he felt in the last sessions of his clear mind and Castiel’s final hours of rut.

He could still feel the pressure of the doorway’s wood panel as it was pressed into his shoulder when Cas had pushed him against the hallway wall, just outside Claire’s empty room. He had gasped still at the arousal of the Alpha’s large cock filling him while he stood and the way he had to grip the doorframe as the angle hit his internal bundle perfectly. Blinking, he thought absently, how he should remember to clean that wall of the residue of come likely left behind. Castiel had shifted them backwards to sit on a small stool left in the corner of the hallway after locking his knot in him. Dean remembered gasping at their positions, and letting the tears slowly run down his face as Cas’ absent mind ran his palm over his abdomen, while the other hand kneaded his chest and pinched his nipples a little as his instincts dreamed of a child. Yet, it was the gentle kisses upon his shoulder that had hurt Dean’s heart the most.

When Castiel’s knot had gone down Dean had risen to go to the bathroom where he could grab some water and solitude. He remembered that he had bluntly refused to look at himself in the small bathroom mirror, as he wasn’t ready to see what had become of him. Sighing into the sink, he had been startled by a concerned voice from the Alpha behind the door.

“Omega? Are you okay?” Castiel asked while the alpha’s worry weaved its way beneath the door along with the rising scent of the final hours of alpha rut.

Nodding he thought to himself, this would be over soon. Without responding he opened the door and allowed the alpha to step through to look at him, run his hands along his shoulders and to his hips. Castiel, the man he had come to care for so deeply, had still not been completely present. He thought, maybe, just maybe the man would remember the tenderness he shared with him, but he knew and certainly hoped he wouldn’t remember all the moments of passion that transpired. More than anything he begged God that Castiel would forget what had happened in the kitchen.

Castiel had stepped aside to allow Dean to exit the bathroom and had tried to crowd back into his scent when he walked to the said kitchen to grab some food. Once in the kitchen Dean cut an apple in half and gave the other to Castiel, instructing the man to eat. But the Alpha was once again falling into the quicksand of biological desires while blown pupils crowded out his blue irises. Dean froze as Castiel walked into him and forced his back to hit the counter of the kitchen, leaning in to scent his neck and groaning.

“Omega, you smell like me.” Castiel groaned once more before licking a strip up his neck and whispering into his ear. “Mine.”

Without reason Dean’s knees had buckled as his inner omega trembled at the declaration. Shaking his head into the pillow he scrunched his eyes closed at what had happened only a few hours before came back in his memory. It was good, bad and all the feelings in-between and beyond.

Dean simultaneously never wanted to feel the way he had felt in that moment as he forced the Alpha back to the bedroom and away from the kitchen, again. But the total feeling of want coming from the Alpha mixed with Castiel’s own brand of gentle worship and desire made him stupidly want it all in the same breath.

Releasing a shudder of breath into the pillow beneath his cheek he looked down to the hand currently draped over his lower abdomen. The alpha’s brain desired another child and transpired such wishes into soft gestures found in sleep. He felt tears leave his eyes once more as he remembered how Castiel had gently pushed him onto the bed, making sure that Dean could see him, but instead, Dean had desired to flip around and not look at the man anymore. The motion, he knew had confused the alpha, who even in his heightened rut had remembered Dean’s earlier request to not be positioned in such a way. But Dean couldn't handle it any longer. He had unintentionally moaned into the bed sheets as Castiel ran his hand down his spine. Castiel had then spread his cheeks and without fanfare had entered his loose wet hole.

Scrunching his eyes tight he could still feel the Alpha moving within him and hear the Alpha panting and yelling into the air as he picked up pace, “Yes, omega. My perfect omega. My beautiful omega. Mine, ugh, Mine.”

Dean even with his clear mind hadn’t been able to escape his own omega instinct to call out to him as well, telling him to move faster and in a slip of the tongue yelling as tears streaked his face in emotional agony and physical ecstasy, “Yours. ALPHAAH!”

Dean forced his face back into the pillow no longer able to look even at his own flat stomach with the words he screamed into the air just before Castiel’s knot swelled and claimed him, locking both of them to the very bed they were on. Castiel had collapsed upon him and slowly turned them to lie as they were now. His knot slowly deflating within Dean as the Alpha slept.

Dean had stayed awake counting the minutes, and then the hour before he was able to feel the alpha’s cock shrink. As he stared once more at the tearstains of the wood paneled walled he closed his eyes while Cas’ cock slipped from his hole. He was finally free to move.

Slowly, with shaking arms he rose from the bed, carefully removing Cas’ arm from his waist and got out of the bed. As he stood he felt the Alpha’s come begin to leak from his abused hole. Closing his eyes once more to the feeling and for a brief second allowing himself to relish in the thought of Cas’ seed taking hold within him while the semen dripped down his thighs. He went to the kitchen and grabbed two large pails of water, filling each, and walking slowly to the tin basin outside by the Joshua tree. The birds around him chirped at his arrival and fluttered away into the tense heat of the California day.

All around him was silent and still, as he reached into the basin for the discarded soap. Dean stepped into the empty basin and picked up one of the pails of water, lifting it high above himself to tip over and allow rivets of water to wash away the last few days. The feeling of water washing over his face was intended to calm his tense mind and body, but instead of calm all it brought was the shudder of muscles and of his heart. Reaching for the soap once more he began to scrub the sweat, semen and slick from his body. He did not scrap it off the way he had after his first heat. The silence of the world around him clouded his soul and brought a blackening sadness to the surface of his skin surface. He was determined to push through the feeling. He had to.

With most of his skin slick with soap, a few bubbles appeared on his skin as he crouched down in the water to do the last task before washing it all away. As he crouched down he gulped for air and reached behind himself with the soap to clean his backside and his rim. With a slight touch he flinched, he knew that it was puffy and sore, and still a little loose from use. Placing his hand down into the basin he allowed the cool water to pool within before sloshing it up towards himself. The cool water calmed the area enough to allow him to place his fingers within. Gritting his teeth his fingers scissored open to allow the Alpha come still within him to leak outwards. Looking between his legs he saw globs of come floating on top of the water like white oil. The degrading feeling of cleaning himself in silence made him tear up and the still darkness within broke forth.

He tried hard to keep the shaking at bay within his skin as he looked down at the dirtying water, but the pain combined with cold loneliness caused the suppressed sounds of mourning to scratch its way from his chest. Once the one sound of agony filled the air, nothing could keep the others. His skin chilled from abandonment and his gut turned inside out. His throat was sore from both the screams of ecstasy from the past few days and the forced broken sounds of his heart releasing into the light orange sky. Clutching the edge of the tub he could feel the metal digging into his palms while his own nails scrapped along the rusting tin. No longer able to keep his body balanced upon his toes he banged his knee against the edge of the tub as his body fully collapsed into the shallow water. His head rested upon his arm as he turned his face into his own flesh and bit down into it, trying to stop the sounds coming form his mouth and hoping that if he bit hard enough the pain inflicted upon his skin would kick start his brain enough to force his heart to stop internally bleeding into his soul.

He was unwanted. Unwanted as a son by his own family. Unwanted by society, as he was a soiled. Unwanted by a gentle alpha, because he wasn’t whom they desired. He didn’t belong where he came from or where he currently was. His love was not needed nor appreciated.

As he turned his face once more into his arm, his teeth releasing itself from his forearm, his dry puffy eyes looked down once more at the globs of oil slicked come floating around his body.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he whispered.

Just a few days ago he had decided that in whatever way Castiel would have him, he would take, including as his sexual partner. But after the way his body had reacted so fully and profoundly to the alpha, the way his mind had escaped him and dreamed of a life more than what the widower could offer and certainly after Cas had reminded him of just how inadequate of a replacement he was. He couldn’t go through with a repeat.

He loved Claire as if she were his own. But no matter how much time he spent with her, she never would be his. And as for Castiel, he felt more than was neither possible nor allowed

He had come to terms that he cared deeply for Castiel, but it wasn’t until he felt his heart so spectacularly shattered on the kitchen floor that he admitted to himself for the first time that he was in love with him. No amount of recent pain could change the present feeling into a past one. Not yet and certainly not in the vicinity of said affection.

Slowly he unwrapped himself from the confined space of the tub and reached down to grab the other pail of water, finally washing the partially dried itchy soap from his skin. Rubbing the water from his face he looked around himself and then back at the house. The old paint was peeling in some places, but as a whole stayed strong to the foundation. The screen door swung back and forth a little as the on coming evening gentle summer wind banged it against the wood frame.

Nodding to himself he resolved for the thousandth time that he had to maintain a distance with Castiel. But this time he thought, it had to stick. He would be there for Claire, because it was unfair otherwise and because he was not sure he could cut his heart away from the little girl even if he were forced. To tell the truth, he wasn’t sure he could for Castiel either, but with him he had to try.

As he walked slowly back into the house, naked and clean, he walked into his room which was a little dusty from the lack of use, and began to put some cloth on. He opted for a pair of well-worn slacks and a loose plaid button up, buttoning it as he walked past the open door to Castiel’s room and made a call to Naomi.

“Yes Hello Operator – Line 14, Naomi Milt- Yes. – Thank you. -  Hi, it’s done. Claire can come home. – No, he’s fine. Just sleeping – I’m fine. – Yes, I’m sure. How long do you think it will take you to bring Claire home? – Okay I’ll wait up for her. Oh, Naomi? Has she eaten? – Perfect, then I’ll just get some Goat’s milk warmed up and put her to sleep.- Yup, see you soon.”

Sighing heavily he placed the cylinder back upon the wall and stared at his hand upon it for a few moments. Claire was on her way home and the house still smelled of Castiel and Dean’s shared rut and heat. Clicking his tongue as he placed his mind forcefully from sad to redirected action, he found himself opening all of the windows in the house and quickly cleaning the floors, the walls and counters. By the time he heard the light clopping of horses coming towards the house, the sun had long set and the house smelled of soft lavender soap. As he walked quickly to the front door to greet them he paused to stand in the doorway of Castiel’s room where the Alpha was still draped over the bed, naked and sound asleep. His eyes skirted over the naked skin of his tan arms, and muscled back and even fondly for a brief moment smiled at the tussle of thick dark hair. Silently, he reached for the door and closed it, hoping not to wake him until tomorrow morning, when absolutely all signs of what had happed disappeared. In the morning he would quickly dash into Castiel’s room to discard the room of dirty bed sheets, before the sleep-ruffled alpha knew something was different. If he was lucky, Castiel would think that Dean had done very little during his Rut, and that the man had been only within the confined of his own bed.

As the door softly clicked into place, he heard Naomi’s feet upon the wood steps of the porch. Through the screen door he could see her arms were full of a sleeping child.

Dashing forward he opened the door and allowed Naomi to walk past him with her granddaughter. The woman smiled gently at Dean as she marched into Claire’s room and placed her sleeping form in the basket on the floor. Soon, Dean thought as he watched the older woman gently brush a lock of blonde hair from Claire’s face, she would no longer fit the basket and will have to move to a real bed. Naomi leaned down and kissed Claire on the forehead softly wishing her a goodnight.

Slowly Naomi arose, the click of her tongue and inhale of breath filling the room where their shared object of love existed. When she faced Dean, her eyes bore into his soul, and the pity could be felt upon his own skin. Quietly and gently she walked by him, pausing briefly to look directly into his eyes while placing a gentle hand upon his cheek.

Dean found tears pooling just at the edge of his own sight, closing his eyes to her glance while his own face betrayed his enforced strength. Naomi’s touch was not only of pity it was of care.

“Come with me Dean,” she whispered softly to him, caressing his cheek as his mother would have.

Inhaling deeply he steeled himself before closing Claire’s door and walking back to the kitchen to find Naomi putting an old rusted kettle upon the stove.

“Please sit down,” she asked her body now facing him from the stove and gesturing to the seat.

As he sat down he noticed that he’d never really taken into account the way that Naomi moved around the house. It was clear as she prepared them a cup of tea, moving from once cupboard to the next, that this was her home long before it was Castiel’s and certainly long before it was Dean’s. But if he was honest he was no longer certain that the house ever truly was his own; A warm place to lay his head, a safe place to grow and love those that lived within, but certainly not his.

The clanking of cups upon saucers along with a hissing noise of the kettle getting ready to scream it’s readiness alerted him to Naomi’s approach and a conversation he knew needed to happen.

“Dean, how are you?”

“I’m good,” he answered shortly however even he could hear how distrustful they were.

Squinting her eyes at him it warned him not to lie as she asked him once more, “Are you okay?”

Unable to look at her any longer he began to nod only for Naomi’s small quirk of an eyebrow to stop him and answer honestly. Shaking his head he looked down at the warm cup that had been placed in front of him.

The sound of the woman sighing made him peek back up at her watching how her own eyes filled with tears as she searched for a way to ask her next question.

“Were you hurt or for- forced?” the sound of her voice cracked at the possibility that her gentle son could have done something vile to Dean.

“No! No, no. Absolutely not. Cas – Castiel would never do such a thing. Even in his rut he was gentle and kind. I was always in control and from the fragments I remember of my heat he was always caring,” he enforced and grabbed Naomi’s hands trying to comfort the strong older woman who so clearly wanted to protect not only her own blood, but himself as well.

“Good, good,” brokenly she smiled at him, stroking his hand between her own.

Patting them and shifting her body towards him the air within the kitchen shifted from that of a concerned mother to one of a leading lady of the Milton family.

“Dean, we must talk and prepare for the possibility that you are with child- No don’t interrupt me. It is possible and even likely. I saw what happened when you smelled his- Rut, that should not have occured given his mate’s death and the fact that he had not been intimate with you before – this much I know. The moment that his father passed away I stopped having heats, long before my time was up. Now what that means I can only conclude that perhaps his body has decided that you as the nurturer of his child and are set to be his next mate, or perhaps something even more frivolous as Gabriel has flippantly mentioned, you and Castiel are true mates. Now I don’t believe in such things, but I cannot deny that what transpired was strange.”

In shock he continued to stare at the statuses woman before him. He could barely believe what she was saying to him, so pointedly and matter of fact. One, he could likely be with child, this was not far from a possibility but he silently prayed it was not true, just as much as he yearned for it. And Two, there was no way they were true mates. A true mate wouldn’t mistake each other for another. Shaking his head he tried to tell Naomi not to worry about such things, but was once again cut off.

“Gabriel and I have talked about what to do. Now I believe that it is only right that the two of you consider marriage. It will be good for Claire to have a complete and stable household. It will also ensure that not only is Castiel, my sweet boy, taken care of so far away, but also and I am sure your parents will agree to it, will ensure that you are taken care of as well.”

Dean had to interject, as he couldn’t allow Naomi to make decisions without Castiel present and certainly not with the reality of both of their own hearts being so drastically different.

“Mrs. Milton I have to disagree with that plan. I’m not sure it will be best for him or for Claire. And- and I don’t think I could be in such a marriage that would be a lie.”

Confused she frowned at him looking for clarification, “What do you mean?”

Searching for an answer above in the ceiling beams Dean inhaled a breath of courage once more and told her blankly what had happened, “Castiel still loves and desires his deceased mate. A- Amelia.”

“Of course he does, but that doesn’t mean he lacks the ability to lo-“

“He said her name,” he pointedly looked directly at her to watch as the meaning of his words sunk in.

“oh- Oh. Oh Dean, when?” the concern and answer clearly on her face, but the need for it to be confirmed or rather disproved still remained.

Gulping for air he answered, “Early in the – process- we found – together.”

“Knotted. Be frank Dean, I’m not some spry innocent young woman. I’ve had a number of children.”

“Yes. Knotted,” blushing he continued, “While we held each other he said her name. He called to his mate and clarified it with her name. He rarely said my own.”

While biting her lips she nodded, tears in her eyes answering his own that betrayed him and streaked down his cheeks. He had hopped that the feeling had passed, but his heart still felt the sting of his situation.

“Does he know?”

Shaking his head once more and sniffing at the snot that had begun to form, “No, I don’t believe so. He was rarely coherent and I noted that much of the rut was caught in a haze. I’m not even sure he’ll remember that any of it happened.”

“What do you want to do?”

He looked down at his hands, not knowing how to answer. He could go home, but he was certain he’d likely find himself disposed or sent somewhere else. He also couldn’t return to the ranch, as he feared Zachariah would find him once more, since the man’s money still flowed partially into the Winchester Ranch. He wasn’t sure he could live with Castiel, he could for Claire, but if he were pregnant it would be something completely different. He had no idea what to do.

“I don’t know,” he croaked as fresh tears fell to his cheeks.

Clicking her tongue he could feel Naomi shift to kneel in front of him, dragging his attention towards her.

“Dean. Honey. This is what is going to happen and this is also a promise I will not forget. You will remain with our family. I will not send you back. You are Claire’s and Claire is yours. That is truth. If Castiel remembers he will be encouraged to make amends with you and allow you to do whatever you feel is right. I will advise him not to discourage you. If he does not, you can remain or come into town and work for Gabriel at the bakery. He could use your skill with pastry,” Naomi smiled up at him, a tight thin line, but a smile that reached her eyes. What she was saying was what would happen. Nothing would change that and at least he could calm his concerns with that promise.

Suddenly her eyes became focused and sad, “If you are with child, I encourage you to tell Castiel and make a decision together. If you cannot, then Gabriel will take you in. He has already agreed to it, and yes I have talked to him about all of this. He is my beta son, he’s smart, business savvy, and he will care for you no questions asked. He will also hide you from Castiel. If need be- and you prefer although I don’t agree- he will accompany you to go see someone in the city who can assist with the situation. And when you are healed and ready, you can decide whether to stay in town or go back to the house.”

Nodding he thanked her and allowed Naomi to hug him. For such a frighteningly sturdy woman, she was more like a strong warm oak than the cold mountain he had originally thought her to be.

“Now let’s get you into bed. I’ll clean up here and stay on the couch over there- No I will not take your bed. You’ve had a long three days and deserve your own bed. In the morning I will strip Castiel’s sheets, and clean them. You my dear will sleep. I’ll knock on the door once he’s left for work.”

Leaning down she kissed his cheek and ushered him away. He had never missed his mother more than in these moments. Naomi was comforting, but she wasn’t Mary.

**Author's Note:**

> Are you interested in more???


End file.
